
SPANISH MISSION; 

OR, 

THE MEMBER FROM NEVADA. 


01 (tomebg in iFiue &cts. 


HENRY AMES BLOOD. 


Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874, by Henry Ames Blood, in 
the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 




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THE 


SPANISH MISSION; 

OR, 

THE MEMBER FROM NEVADA. 


21 €oraebg in five 2tcts. 


BY 

HENRY AMES BLOOD. 

n 


Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874, by Henry Ames Blood, in 
the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 

All rights reserved. 


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cAl 


7* 


DRAMATIS PERSONAE. 


— « — 

( George Washington Jones, or 
( Hon. Tiieophilus Gadsby, M. C. 
Mr. Higginbotham. 

Mu. Fishback. 

Mr. Saunders. 

Mr. Roberts. 

Mr. Funic. 

Commodore Copperbottom. 
Thomas Applejack. 

General R. C. Smith. 
Lieutenant Limpsicus. 

A Grocer. 

A Wine Merchant. 

A Tailor. 

Mrs. Scarlett. 

Madam Pumpington. 

Ophelia Pumpington. 

Mrs. Dunloby. 

Susan Drum. 

Carolina. 

% 

( ( \ 

< < 

c < 


Gift. 

W. L. Shoemaker 
7 S ’06 


7?Ma a - 1 5 “ 


THE SPANISH MISSION, 

OR 

THE MEMBER FROM NEVADA. 


ACT I. 

SCENE I. 

Room in a cheap New York hotel. Mr. George Washington Jones, in a 
shabby genteel suit, at a writing-desk. 

Jon. George Washington Jones ! Yes, that is my name ! 
But in the words of a great philosopher, I say, damn that 
name ! It is bad enough to be born a Jones, but to put 
George Washington before it, makes it a thousand times 
worse. I’ll write hereafter under a nom de plume. But 
then, it is no worse a name than Shakespeare, when you 
come to look at it. They call him “ old Bill,” and “ old 
Shake.” The fact is, Shakespeare was a mighty common 
name, until one William Shakespeare made it respectable. 
Therefore, I’ll not shoot myself just yet. I’ll write another 
play, and if that don’t succeed, I’ll consider the best way to 
become an angel. “ Sir William Jones,” now, sounds well, 
— he was a great man. We’ll see what can be done with 
George Washington Jones. The worst of it is, I am afraid 
I love whiskey somewhat too well for my own benefit. But 
then, Shakespeare drank sack at the Mermaid, — and that 
reminds me, I haven’t had a dozen square drinks to-day. 
However, I have half made up my mind to swear off. 


4 


THE SPANISH MISSION , OR 


[Act I. 


[ Rises and rings the bell.~\ I must turn over a new leaf on 
New Year’s. I think I can, at least, graduate my drinks 
rather better than I have heretofore ; and then I can alter- 
nate a little between Rye and Bourbon ; in fact, I can ease 
off on Mondays with a bottle or two of medicinal drink, 
such as Porter, Schnapps, et cetera. \_Enter Susan Drum. J 

Jon. Susan Drum, I am going to turn over a new leaf. 

S. D. A what-is-it ? 

Jon. A new leaf ; that is, I’m not going to drink any 
more, after New Year’s. 

S. D. Why, that ’s four months hence. 

Jon. Exactly, Susan Drum, but hear me out. I don’t 
mean I am not going to indulge any more, — far from it ! 
but, only, not so much any more. 

S. D. But you didn’t ring me up eight flights to say 
that ? 

Jon. Susan Drum, I rang you up eight flights for two 
very simple yet cogent reasons, — One is, I want a hot 
punch, a very hot punch ; the other is, I’m going to swear 
off this drinking business, and I want you for a witness. 

S. D. But Mr. Higginbotham says as how he can’t trust 
you for any more punches. 

Jon. (< aside .) I was afraid it would come to that. Susan 
Drum, a happy thought strikes me. Granted that Mr. Hig- 
ginbotham can’t trust me for any more punches, neverthe- 
less he might give me credit for a cobbler, you know 
[ insinuatingly ]. Now, I should be quite satisfied with a 
moderately strong cobbler. Indeed, Susan Drum, the more 
I think of it, the more fully I am persuaded that Mr. Hig- 
ginbotham could scarcely find it in his heart to refuse me a 
cobbler. If he could, he is a base villain and a scoundrel, 
and you can tell him that. I can give Mr. Higginbotham 
my note, if that ’s what he wants. 

S. D. But he says as how he can’t trust you for anything. 

Jon. Susan Drum, you are aware that I am a compara- 
tive stranger in this city. I reside in Spain, when at home. 
It is true that I have no property here, but I have several 
castles in Spain, you understand. I wonder if Mr. Higgin- 
botham realizes that Sir George Washington Jones, — I beg 


Scene I.] THE MEMBER FROM NEVADA. 5 

your pardon, George Washington Jones, — has his castles 
in Spain ? 

S. D. I don’t know, sir. You never told me that you had 
before. 

Jon. (catching at an idea.) No? Don’t Higginbotham 
understand that? Well, don’t tell him; I scorn to give 
him that information. I wouldn’t have you inform him for 
the wealth of a Rothschild. I’ll test his moral character. 
Don’t go telling him, now, what I have unguardedly, in a 
moment of confidence and unpardonable weakness, betrayed 
to you ; that I am really quite a different personage from 
what I seem to be ! Don’t tell him that you entertain a 
positive conviction that I am rich, for that would be, in- 
deed, as the poet says, “ letting the cat out of the bag.” 
You know, Susan Drum,. I have had a weak side for you, 
ever since I first met you ; and the truth is, I always shall 
have. Susan Drum, I foresee that this casual meeting of 
ours will have its consequences, its interesting consequen- 
ces for both of us. But don’t let the cat out of the bag! 
That ’s all I say at present. 

S. D. I’ll see if I can’t get you a punch, in spite of old 
Higginbotham. Pretty strong, did you say ? 

Jon. Perhaps you’d better bring it clear. There are 
certain reasons, why I should prefer it clear. But Mr. 
Higginbotham can exercise his own taste. I ask no favors, 
you understand. Sir George Washington Jones, I beg your 
pardon, — George Washington Jones, — asks no favors. 
But remember, Susan, — I have always been accustomed 
to have my rights, and not the least 'of those rights is that I 
shall have my punch clear, if I want it clear. [ Exit Susan 
Drnm.~\ Poor Susan ! she thinks I shall marry her. She 
too has her castles in Spain. But I shall not long trifle 
with her affections. It is only too obvious that my stay in 
this hotel will be somewhat limited. Ah, ha ! I have it ! 
I’ll make him sweat ; I’ll make old Higginbotham pay for 
this outrage ! Ah, ha ! Truly I have a most sympathiz- 
ing demon \_Puts his hand to his forehead ] who attends my 
interests. The son of Sophroniscus had his demon ; why 
not the son of Jonathan Jones ? His demon told him what 


6 


THE SPANISH MISSION, OR 


[Act I. 


not to do ; mine tells me what to do. [ Goes to his trunk and 
unlocks it; then addresses himself to the trunk.~\ 0 ponderous 
and noble trunk of mine ! It was by means of thy exceeding 
heaviness that some two weeks ago I obtained entrance into 
this poor paradise, and now it is by means of thy exceeding 
lightness, that I will compass not only an inexpensive but a 
most profitable departure ! [ Lifts out, with much difficulty , 

two heavy boxes without covers, and seen to be empty, which he 
pushes under the bed ; then, tumbling his hair and assuming 
an attitude and appearance of great rage, he sets the trunk 
on end, so that it can plainly be seen to be empty ; at this 
point Susan Drum enters with punch on a server.~\ 

S. D. Why, Mr. Jones, what is the matter ? 

Jon. Susan Drum, I am robbed ; — coats, pantaloons, 
watch, diamonds, Matilda’s portrait, everything gone ! Ring 
the bell, Susan Drum ! [ frantically ] ring the bell ! ring 
the bell, I say ! [a She rings the bell. ] • 

S. D. Excuse me, Mr. Jones ; I think you never told me 
of Matilda? 

Jon. No ? Didn’t I tell you she was dead ? 

S. D. (in a satisfied manner.) Dead ? Oh, she ’s dead ! 
Jon. Yes, Susan, since I came to this house, she has been 
dead to me. You may possibly comprehend why that is so, 
Susan Drum? But, oh, Susan, I ’m glad it wasn’t your 
picture! Ring the bell again ! [*S^e rings.'] Harder, Su- 
san ! [//e now takes the punch from the server and drinks 

it. ] Susan Drum, I drink your health ! Susan, there was 
a splendid pearl-necklace in that trunk, I had intended to 
bestow on you, as a trifling evidence of — what shall I say? 
— Susan, I am too diffident to confess of what particular 
sentiment I was intending to make that indifferent necklace 
the modest declaration. But, I may say there was also a 
diamond ring, Susan, which would have fitted you. Why 
don’t they come up ? \_He rings the bell furiously. Enter 
Higginbotham.~\ 

Hig. Well, sir? 

Jon. No, sir, it is not well, sir; — it is damned bad, sir. 

I have been robbed, and I don’t like to accuse you of doing 
it, sir. 


Scene I.] 


THE MEMBER 'FROM NEVADA. 


7 


Hig. Sir? 

Jon. I say I don’t like to accuse you of doing it, sir. 

Hig. ( approaching Mr. Jones rather threateningly.) You 
don’t wish to accuse me of robbing you, sir? 

Jon. ( somewhat alarmed.) No! — that ’s what I say. I 
said I didn’t want to accuse you. What more do you want? 

Hig. {approaching nearer.) I want satisfaction. 

Jon. {assuming a pugnacious attitude). And I want sat- 
isfaction. Pardon me, Mr. Higginbotham, if I have seemed 
in any degree impetuous ; it is my nature to be impetuous. 
The great loss I have sustained must be my apology. 
Money cannot replace it. 

Hig. {relaxing.) No man was ever robbed in my house 
before. What have you lost ? 

Jon. {pointing to his trunk.) My entire wardrobe, sir: 
my watch, my diamonds, everything. 

Hig. I am very sorry, sir. 

Jon. I suppose you are aware that the mere state of your 
feelings in relation to this matter will not rehabilitate my 
wardrobe, nor put me in possession of my repeater, nor re- 
place my diamonds, nor repay me for the extraordinary agi- 
tation of mind in which you now see me, — liable at any 
moment to bring on an accession of the heart-complaint, 
which has followed me off and on for the last fifteen years. 

Hig. {sneeringly.) Diamonds ! 

Jon. Well, sir, is it then strange that I should have dia- 
monds, when, as I perceive, you yourself sport a very large 
one, flaming in your shirt bosom ? — you, a mere hotel- 
keeper ? Or am I mistaken, and is that a borrowed stone 
only, or one of the California species ? 

Hig. Sir, I will not endure this talk. 

Jon. Well, sir, if you want to go into the newspapers 
about it, I may say that I can accommodate you, not only 
in English, but in French, Dutch, and German newspapers ; 
and I also feel quite equal to a suit at law, if that will be 
agreeable ; and I will follow you to the Superior Court. 
Blackstone will be there, sir. 

Hig. If you had any valuables, the place for them was 
in my safe ; but how much are you willing to swear you, 
have lost ? 


8 


THE SPANISH MISSION, OR 


[Act I. 


Jon. Now, then, you are coming to the point. But sit 
down, sir [ They and let me ask a question. How much 
are you willing to give me in lieu of what 1 have lost, rather 
than have this unparalleled outrage ventilated in the news- 
papers ? For I flatter myself, Mr. Higginbotham, I can set 
the facts in such a peculiar light that a paltry six or eight 
hundred dollars would scarcely compensate you for the dam- 
age consequent upon my illumination. 

Hig. No, sir: I shall insist on a suit at law. I want 
proof. 

Jon. A course of settling this affair, sir, which I vastly 
prefer. A suit at law will put me in good spirits. If I 
have any one passion stronger than another, it is to be in- 
volved in tedious litigation. I love it so well that for the 
last fifteen years I have dreamed of very little else but law. 
I was sacrificing my inclinations, Mr. Higginbotham, when 
I proposed, for your sake, to have the matter otherwise ad- 
justed. As to proof, I flatter myself [ looking significantly 
at Susan Drum] that I have at least one credible witness 
here in this room, sir ; a witness, too, by no means biased 
in my favor, and willing to give her testimony without ref- 
erence to my real position and circumstances in life, what- 
ever, sir, that position and those circumstances may be. I 
think, sir, that intelligent witness will be able to state that 
she clearly had cognizance of at least three of the very valua- 
ble articles which I had in my possession, being no less con- 
siderable, sir, than a large diamond ring, an invaluable por- 
trait set with diamonds, and a pearl necklace from Surinam. 
Now, sir, perhaps you, or Mr. Coke, or Mr. Littleton, can 
put aside unbiased testimony of that character, and perhaps 
you cannot. But, sir, from the moment I perceived I had 
been robbed, there arose in my breast a feeling of regret 
that this affair had taken place in your house, Mr. Higgin- 
botham, where, I may say, that, for an entire stranger, I 
have been treated with a remarkable degree of considera- 
tion. Now, sir, I will give you a few days in which to 
make an effort to recover my property, and if, after due 
search, you fail, and find yourself unable to return the sev- 
eral articles, which I will specify in an inventory, you can 


Scene II.] 


THE MEMBER FROM NEVADA. 


9 


then signify whether it will be your pleasure that I proceed 
for damages in the court, or whether you will compound 
with me for my loss, without resort to legal measures. 
Meantime, sir, I will indulge in your liospitality. I shall 
expect you to furnish me with the wearing apparel of which 
I stand in immediate need. 

Hig. ( apparently relieved.') Well, I agree to that [ rising ] : 
but you must give me time. 

Jon. Ample time, sir. I did contemplate leaving for 
Europe, but I can postpone that, — at least I will postpone 
it on your account. 

Hig. Good evening, sir [going~\. 

Jon. Wait, Mr. Higginbotham, I will order up some 
punch. 

Hig. No, I thank you. There is no time to be lost. 
There ’s a detective down-stairs, now ; I must put him on 
the track. I’ll send you up, directly, the best punch you 
ever tasted. [JExit.~\ 

Jon. All right, Mr. Higginbotham. [ 7'hen, mournfully ] 
Susan Drum, the most I regret is, that this unexpected loss 
will necessarily postpone a certain event involving our 
mutual interest, of which I was living in daily expectation. 
Meantime, I trust that our friendly relations may continue. 
But need I tell you that this extraordinary affair has left me 
in a very thirsty condition ? 

S. D. Oh, Mr. Jones ? [Rises to go.~\ 

Jon. I think, Susan Drum, you will have no further diffi- 
culty with Mr. Higginbotham. I shouldn’t be surprised if 
he sent me up half a gallon of punch. 

S. D. I will be back very soon, Mr. Jones. [Exitj] 

Jon. (following her out.) Susan ! Susan Drum ! 

SCENE II. 

A Street in New York. Enter Jones on one side, slightli / intoxicated , and 
dressed as before ; Mr. Applejack enters opposite. They meet. 

Ap. {impressively). Why, how do you do, Mr. Gadsby ? 

Jon. {somewhat bewildered , and feeling insulted.) Sir ! 

Ap. I say, how do you do ? 

Jon. I don’t know you ! [hie. J 


10 


THE SPANISH MISSION, OR 


[Act I. 


Ap. Applejack ! — These Members of Congress get ter- 
ribly stuck up [aside]. — Don’t remember Tom Applejack, 
who canvassed for you up in the Almaden district ? I polled 
three hundred votes for you. But I dare say I’ve changed : 
— whiskers out since then. Been down to Washington, 
yet ? 

Jon. (aside.') Good God ! he takes me for a Congress- 
man ! I’ll humor him. Oh, yes ! Applejack ! of course I 
know you ! But how did you know me ? [hie.] 

Ap. Oh, I’ve seen you on the stump, fifty times. 

Jon. Ah ! But don’t you think I have changed, too ? 
Not so fat, eh ? [hie.] 

Ap. I don’t see any difference. But I heard you had 
gone on a trip to Russia. 

Jon. No, I concluded not to go to Russia. But what did 
you call me just now ? 

Ap. Why, I called you Gadsby, that ’s all. 

Jon. Did you? By Jove, I thought you called me Gad- 
fly [hie]. All right, Applejack ! [Then, subduing his tone] 
Applejack, — I’ve been robbed ! 

Ap. Robbed ? 

Jon. Lost everything I had about me : my watch, my 
money, my clothes, my diamonds, my very shirt. 

Ap. Goodness ! how did that happen ? 

Jon. At the hotel, in the bath-room. This miserable 
suit is the hotel-clerk’s. 

Ap. How much did you lose ? 

Jon. Oh, money, — say, twenty-five hundred; diamonds, 
three thousand ; but then the great loss was my clothes, 
checks, and all that. 

Ap. What hotel is it ? 

Jon. (hesitating.) That ’s a secret, Applejack. I wouldn’t 
mind telling you, but the fact is, a member of Congress is 
bored to death ; and if I told one where I am, I should 
have to tell every other. But let me know where you are, 
and I’ll call on you often. All the same, you know. 

Ap. I should be delighted ! — Room 50, Saint Nicholas. 
Plenty of whiskey ; best cigars in the city. Come up to- 
night. But the devil, Gadsby, you mustn’t wear borrowed 


Scene II.] 


THE MEMBER FROM NEVADA. 


11 


clothes any longer ! Here, take this [giving him hank-hills ] 
and to-night I will hand you a draft on Belmont. 

Jon. You are very kind. I hope I can serve you in some 
Way, when I go down to Washington. 

Ap. No doubt you can. 

Jon. Weil [grasping Applejack's hand with vigor], good- 
by, Applejack. I’ll see you to-night. 

Ap. All right ! Good luck to you ! [ Exeunt , one going 

up and one down street. While engaged in the above con- 
versation , people have heen passing both ways , some in haste , 
others leisurely , but not noticing them. Presently Jones re- 
turns and meets another person who addresses him.] 

Sm. Why, how are you, Gadsby ? 

Jon. Never better, Colonel, in my life. How are you? 

Sm. Not Colonel , — it is General , now, you remember! 
I think it was you who got me breveted. 

Jon. Devil! yes; — I do so many of those things, I for- 
get. But let me see, — I had some trouble, I remember, on 
that occasion, about the spelling of your name. 

Sm. Well, it’s not so very hard to spell. [ spelling it] 
S-M-I-T-H. 

Jon. (i confused ). What! Let me see! Oh! Ha, ha! 
Yes, I see! [laughing.] They spelled it in the papers — 
S-m-i-t-h-E. 

Sm. Did they? Well, that was singular. 

Jon. By the way, Smith, I was robbed this morning. 

Sm. No ! 

Jon. Yes, — in my own hotel ! I shall have to leave it. 
First-class hotel, you know, but I can’t feel safe there, now. 
By the way, Smith, do you know any good hotel where you 
could introduce me, pay the bills and wait for the money till 
I get home ? You don’t know Tom Applejack, do you ? 

Sm. No, I have heard of him. He ’s in Europe, now, I 
believe. 

Jon. Did he take his family with him ? 

Sm. Tom Applejack ? He has no family ! 

Jon. {wisely.) Ha, ha ! well, that ’s all right; — he didn’t 
take his family, then ? Families don’t all go to Europe, do 
they ? Some families have a trick of staying at home, you 
know. 


12 


THE SPANISH MISSION, OR 


[Act II. 


Sm. Well, that beats me ! I confess I have heard that 
some people thought he had a family ; but I doubt it. Who 
told you he had a family ? 

Jon. Never mind. But where does Tom reside now ? 
He ’s a glorious good fellow. 

Sm. He has a ranche just outside of Carson city ; — the 
almightiest ranche in the whole State of Nevada. 

Jon. (aside.) Oh, then, I’m the member from Nevada, I 
see. Well, I’m going to write to my old friend Brown in 
Carson city, and what shall 1 say to him, for my good friend 
General A. J. Smith ? 

Sm. H. C. Smith, Mr. Gadsby. 

Jon. R. C. ? What the deuce did I say ? 

Sm. You said A. J. Smith. 

Jon. No; did I? Well, I was thinking of Brown: my 
mind is always wandering that way. Shall I mention your 
name to Brown ? Do you stop in Carson now ? 

Sm. Yes, that was where I voted for you. But come with 
me to the Westmoreland House. Nice, private hotel; — 
just what you would like. 

Jon. But I must request you not to give them my real 
name, nor tell any one from Nevada where I am, nor write 
home anything about me. I don’t want to be bored with 
visitors, nor with correspondence. 

Sm. All right, Gadsby. [Offers his hand.'] It shall be 
exactly as you say. 

Jon. (shaking hands.) Till we meet again. [Curtain 
falls as they exeunt.] 


ACT II. 

SCENE I. 

A Washington Boarding - house. Enter George Washington Jones , 
elegantly dressed, with travelling-bag and cane; and colored servant, 
Carolina. 

Ca iii This, sar, am de room. 

Jon. Am it ? What do you say your name is ? 


Scene I.] 


THE MEMBER FROM NEVADA. 


13 


Car. Carolina, sar. 

Jon. And what is the name of the proprietor of this 
establishment ? 

Car. Mrs. Scarlett, sar. 

Jon. Well, Carolina, convey my compliments to Mrs. 
Scarlett, and say I should like to see her here. 

Car. Yes, sar. [ Exit Carolina.'] 

Jon. If they had imagined I was a member of Congress, 
they would scarcely have shown me this room. For I am 
a member of Congress to all intents and purposes. Every- 
body swears I am Hon. Theophilus Gadsby, M. C., and I 
begin to think I am. Only, I must confess I have every 
reason to believe there is an individual by that name and 
title, at present hobnobbing with the Czar of Russia. \_Enter 
Mrs. Scarlett, fat and rubicund, with a curtsey.] 

Jon. ( bowing profoundly .) Mrs. Scarlett, I presume. 

Mrs. S. Yes, sir. 

Jon. I am looking for rooms, madam. 

Mrs. S. My servant usually attends to these matters. 
The truth is, I do not really rent rooms. There is no 
necessity of it, but my house is large, and I sometimes 
accommodate people in that way, provided they agree to 
understand that it is merely an accommodation, and that 
they are for the time being members of the family. 

Jon. Ah ! very well ; — I prefer that. I am able of 
course to pay for rooms, but if you object to receiving any- 
thing, there will be no trouble on that score. 

Mrs. S. You mistake me, sir. I charge a nominal sum 
for accommodations, but I do not wish it to be understood 
that I rent rooms. 

Jon. And about how much might be the nominal sum 
which you charge for this room ? 

Mrs. S. Well, sir, that depends somewhat on the amount 
of the occupant’s income. Some, you know, can afford to 
pay more than others. 

Jon. My income is very moderate. What is the least 
nominal charge that would satisfy you ? But have you no 
other rooms ? I do not exactly like the looks of the fur- 
niture in this apartment. 


14 


THE SPANISH MISSION, OR 


[Act II. 


Mrs. S. Don’t like the looks of the furniture ? Why, 
this [ vointing to a chair] is the chair that Henry Clay sat 
up in during his last illness ; — and on that sofa died Patrick 
Henry. 

Jon. Ah ! is it possible ! Henry Clay was my beau ideal. 
I must sit down in that chair. [*S%s down ; and the chair 
falling to pieces he is brought to the floor , and seems to be 
hurt.'] Great Heavens, madam ! A less venerable relic 
would satisfy my aspirations quite as well as this. But who 
did you say died on that sofa ? 

Mrs. S. Patrick Henry. He was my maternal grand- 
father. 

Jon. Ah then, you are of Irish descent. But [ ( pointing 
to another chair], will you be good enough to tell me who 
died in that other chair ? 

Mrs. S. (laughing.) I cannot say that anybody did. 

Jon. Mrs. Scarlett, do you not think this room has rather 
a gloomy aspect ? 

Mrs. S. It may to some. But I have larger rooms ; 
only they are more expensive. [Winningly.] Excuse me, 
sir, but I saw yesterday on the Avenue, a portrait of Mr. 
Gadsby, member from Nevada, which resembles you very 
much. 

Jon. Well, madam, I suppose I am that gentleman. 

Mrs. S. Now I look more carefully, I am sure of it. I 
shall be happy to show you better apartments than these. 

Jon. Very good, madam. 

Mrs. S. This way, if you please. [Exeunt. 

SCENE II. 

Another and quite elegant Apartment in Mrs. Scarlett's House. Enter Mrs. 

Scarlett and Jones. 

Mrs. S. This is the room, Mr. Gadsby, in which the 
Declaration of Independence was written. 

Jon. Ah ! is it possible ? I rather like this room. What 
might be the charge for this room ? 

Mrs. S. Mr. Povy,of Illinois paid me three hundred and 
eighty dollars per month 'for this and the adjoining apart- 
ment, last session, which is the least I ever received for it. 


SCE^E II.] 


THE MEMBER FROM NEVADA. 


15 


Jon. But 1 suppose Mr. Povy is rich. Now, I am not 
worth above eighty thousand dollars, all told ; and Povy, I 
believe, is a millionaire. If you graduate prices by income, 
as you say, I ought not to pay above forty dollars per 
month, when compared with Povy. 

Mrs. S. But then your salary and back pay, you know, 
will go a good ways. Besides, Mr. Gadsby, I understand 
you have the control of the Spanish mission. I have a 
special friend who is very anxious to get that post, and if 
you can see your way clear to give it him, we won’t talk 
about rent at all. 

Jon. Yes, I suppose I have the control of that mission. 
We will talk about that hereafter. I conclude I had better 
take these rooms. 

Mrs. S. You will want another room for your private 
secretary, I suppose. Have you engaged your secretary ? 

Jon. The truth is, I have so many applications that I 
find it difficult to make a choice. 

Mrs. S. If you will leave that to me, I can furnish you 
with a very able one, Mr. Fishback, my nephew. He has 
rooms here already, and is very conversant with business. 
He has only one fault, — once in a great while he drinks 
too much. , 

Jon. Just the man I want, Mrs. Scarlett. I have a little 
weakness that way myself. 

Mrs. S. I will send him to you [going]. 

Jon. Be good enough, madam, to hand my check here to 
the expressman, for my baggage at the Sixth Street depot ; 
and please send for my mail. 

Mrs. S. Very well, Mr. Gadsby. I can have your mail 
here in five minutes. [Exit.] 

Jon. Well done ! If the Spanish mission doesn’t pay my 
expenses, and a good bonus beside, I’ll be shot for it. Mrs. 
Scarlett’s receipts will be as nominal as her charges, I 
imagine. I shall have to make hay in the next three 
months, for I presume the real Gadsby will be back here by 
December. I should like to hear the real Gadsby swear 
when he comes to find out what a mess I have cooked for 
him. [Enter Fishback, hat in hand.'] 


10 


THE SPANISH MISSION , OR 


[Act II. 


Fish. Your servant, sir. 

Jon. Glad to see you, Mr. Codback. 

Fish. Fishback, if you please. 

Jon. Ah yes, pardon me. Do you know, Mr. Fishback, 
I have the worst memory for names and faces in the world. 
If one of my most intimate friends were to come in here 
now, the chances are I shouldn’t remember him. I some- 
times forget my own name ; why, actually, Fishback, I some- 
times call myself Jones or Smith. You can’t imagine how 
much it annoys me. Mrs. Skillet tells me you are her 
nephew. 

Fish. Mrs. Scarlett , sir. 

Jon. Why, there it is again, you see. I knew well enough 
it was Scarlett. A very worthy woman is Mrs. Scarlett, 
sir. 

Fish. Yes, I am proud of her. 

Jon. Do you happen to know whether any of my con- 
stituents are in the city now, Mr. Fishback? 

Fish. I do not know any, sir. 

Jon. I am glad of that. I have come here for rest, as 
much as anything, and I don’t want to be annoyed by con- 
stituents. Indeed, Mr. Fishback, one of your duties will 
be to say to all such that I am either sick, or not at home. 
But if strangers call, — persons who have no particular 
claim on me, Fishback, I will see them. This matter of 
the Spanish Mission will engross the most of my attention. 
But we have not arranged for your compensation : what 
are your terms, Mr. Fishback ? 

Fish. I think about twenty-five dollars per week, unless 
you are much pressed with business. I believe that is the 
usual charge. I have my own private matters to attend to, 
but I can serve you a few hours every day. 

Jon. That will be satisfactory. \_Enter Carolina with a 
packaged] 

Car. Here is your mail, sar. 

Jon. Mr. Fishback, will you be good enough to run over 
my letters ? 

Fish. Certainly, sir. [ Unties the bundle and opens a letter .] 

Jon. Where is that from, Mr. Fishback? 


Scene II.] 


THE MEMBER FROM NEVADA. 


17 


Fish. New York. 

Jon. Ah! what does the party say? But first look for 
the Nevada letters. I am anxious to hear from home first, 
you know. That is natural. But then, everybody in Ne- 
vada thinks I have gone to Russia. I suppose you saw in 
the papers that I had gone to Russia ? A little piece of di- 
plomacy, Fishback. I presume, in fact, there isn’t a single 
, letter there from Nevada. 

Fish. Oh, yes, here ’s one from Carson. 

Jon. Some ass, I presume, who wants a post-office. 

Fish. Capital ! That ’s exactly what he wants. His 
name is O’Brien, — Patrick O’Brien. 

Jon. And what does Patrick O’Brien say? 

Fish. He says : “ To the Right Honorable Theophilus 
Gadsby. M. P. ” / Gracious, he thinks you are a member of 
Parliament ! — “ Most Respected and Honorable Sir, — If 
you have changed your moind and come to the conclusion 
that you are not a-going to Rooshy at this toime, I have 
concluded to be solicitous of wroiting to you concerning the 
Post-office here. Cornelius Dempsy, the incumbent, is well 
known to you for a dirty, blarneyin villain and a scoundrel 
[Both laugh.] My frinds in Carson demand his removal, and 
your intilligent constituents. Will you be plased, most 
obadient sir, to remove him at once, immadyately, and ap- 
point as your constituents intoirely demand, meeself in Cor- 
nelius Dempsy’s place ? — bad loock to him ! ” [ Both laugh 
immoderately. ] 

Jon. Is that all ? 

Fish. That ’s all. 

Jon. Well, but don’t you think it’s about time to take a 
drink ? 

Fish. With all my heart. 

Jon. Fishback, I like you. By the way, I have a demi- 
john with my baggage, and until that comes, perhaps you 
can supply what we need. 

Fish. Oh, yes ! [Rises and rings the bell.'] 

Jon. Any more letters from Nevada? 

Fish. Let me see ! Yes, here ’s another from Carson. 
[Opens and reads.] “Noble Sir: I was overlooking the 
2 


18 


THE SPANISH MISSION, OR 


[Act II. 


‘ Kalf Blatt ’ since a few days ago, and I underforstand you 
have to go to Russia concluded this year. [ Both laugk.~\ 
There is a new mine started here, and all ve vant is for 
you to sell a few share in Vashington ; also, for to get a bill 
through for a tunnel. It is the “ Economy Mine.” Vill 
you sell dem few share, and we get started? We gives you 
fifty share — vill send every vone share by express. Please 
answer conveniently. Humbly your friend and great admirer, 

Anton Pretzelhammer.” 

“ The Hon. Theophilus Gadsby ,” 

“ City of Washington , D. 0.” 

Jon. That means business, eh, Fishback ? 

Fish. Yes, on the whole, I should say he means business. 

[ Carolina enters , and drinks are ordered.~\ 

Jon. Well, undoubtedly that ’s a first-rate mine. I know 
just where it is located. A mighty rich country it is. Hon- 
orable men, too, there ’s no doubt about that. If you have 
any friends that want a first-class investment, you can count 
them in. As to any percentage I might be entitled to, I 
will waive that. Perhaps Mrs. Scarlett would like a few 
shares ? She deserves to be rich. I tell you, Fishback, 
that woman ought to be rich ; and there ’s nothing to hinder. 
Now, let ’s have another letter. 

Fish. Here ’s one from New York. [ Opens it ] It is 
signed, “ Thomas Applejack.” 

Jon. I wonder what Applejack wants. 

Fish. He says, “ My Dear Gadsby : ” — 

Jon. Well, that is very familiar. 

Fish. “My Dear Gadsby: I have sent you to-day, by 
Adams’ Express, a case of Dry Sillery, a case of Johannis- 
berger, and a case of Cutter’s Best Bourbon Whiskey. By 
the way, I wish you would step into the Warrant Office at 
the Treasury and have my matters there closed up. 

“ In haste, Thomas Applejack.” 

Jon. Applejack is a sensible fellow. Fishback, please 
send down to the express-office early to-morrow morning. 
What next ? 

Fish. Here is a letter superscribed in a female hand. 

Jon. Ah ! — Perhaps I had better read that ? No, never 
mind ; open it. 


Scene II.] 


THE MEMBER FROM NEVADA. 


19 


Fish. [Opens the letter and reads.) “ My Dearest Gadsby : 
It seems an age since you left me, and I endure life only in 
the hope of seeing you soon again.” 

Jon. Who writes that letter ? 

Fish. The name is — Susan Drum. 

Jon. Oh! — An old maid Countess I met in New York. 
Rather illiterate, I thought. Does she write a good hand ? 

Fish. Lovely ; one of the prettiest hands I ever saw in 
my life. 

Jon. Well, I might have been mistaken : and yet, I had 
really conceived the noble Countess was illiterate. 

Fish. “ Higginbotham is very happy now he knows you 
are a member of Congress.” 

Jon. Higginbotham is a rich uncle of hers in England. 

oo o 

Fish. “ He is afraid of losing my services, now. He 
says I am the best maid-servant he ever had in his house.” 

Jon. That ’s a figurative way she has of writing. The 
idea of calling his niece a maid-servant ! 

Fish. “ But since you left, the hotel is no longer a para- 
dise. The other girls say I put on airs, and they don’t like 
me any longer.” 

Jon. The Devil ! The fact is, Fishback, her sisters are 
jealous of her, and well they may be. She is positively 
handsome, and compared with her sisters, is a Cinderella. 

Fish. “ Higginbotham is very sorry for the manner he 
treated you about the robbery, and is afraid it will injure 
his custom.” 

Jon. You see, Fishback, she means customs ! I told you 
she was somewhat illiterate. This Higginbotham is a great 
exporter of woollen goods, and he fancies I can help him at 
the custom-house. The robbery she speaks of was an affair 
at the bonded-warehouse. Higginbotham got very indig- 
nant because I didn’t help him out of that scrape ; — but 
in the name of common sense, how could I ? A member of 
Congress can’t do everything, you know ! [ Carolina brings 
in punches on a waiter.'] 

Fish. No, of course not. 

Jon. Read on. 


20 THE SPANISH MISSION, OR [Act II. 

Fish. “ I am improving very much in my writing, but 
this is written by a lady stopping at the house. 

“ Your loving Susan Drum.” 

Jon. You wouldn’t believe it, Fishback, but positively, 
my pretty Countess had been so long in Paris, that she had 
forgotten her English ; — absolutely forgotten it ; and it is 
only just now coming to her, so she has to employ an aman- 
uensis. Singular name, you think, for a Countess ? It was 
her nom de plume when she wrote French society -articles 
for the “ Figaro,” or some other periodical of that character : 
a perfectly ridiculous nom de plume, however. 

Fish. She is a very accomplished woman, then ? 

Jon. Accomplished ! why, she sings like a nightingale, 
and plays the harp like a Welsh bard. But she sings alto- 
gether from the operas Now I like the old Scotch tunes, 
but she says the old Scotch tunes are plebeian. 

Fish. May I ask what her real name is? 

Jon. Certainly. \_Pauses.] 

Fish. I say, may I ask her real name ? 

Jon. Her real name? Of course! But you must never 
mention it. Promise me you’ll never mention it. 

Fish. Why, no, certainly not. 

Jon. Her real name is — , by Jupiter, there comes in 
my cursed memory for names. It is — [Strikes his fore- 
head as if trying to remember it]. It is — , well, you know 
these Countesses have about a thousand names ; — it is 
Rodolphine Celestia Amarantha Georgiana Caroline Fan- 
tasia Clementine Roxalana Ianthe Victoria De Sandran. 

Fish. Well, that is about a thousand. 

Jon. I always called her Blanche. 

Fish. That ’s still another. 

Jon. Didn ’t I mention Blanche? 

Fish. No, sir, I think not. But De Sandran is a French 
name, is it not ? 

Jon. Yes, her great-great-great-grandfather was a Hu- 
guenot, a refugee. But is that the last letter in the pack- 
age? 

Fish. The last. 


Scene II.] THE MEMBER FROM NEVADA. 21 

Jon. We will answer that first. This is capital Bourbon 
[ drinking ]. You write short-hand, I suppose ? 

Fish. Yes. [Prepares pen and 'paper to write .] 

Jon. ( pausing at intervals as if meditating what to say 
next.) “My Dear Countess : You can believe it was with 
no feigned regret that I bade you adieu for a time. When 
you have sufficiently recovered your English to correspond 
without the intervention of an amanuensis, I can write you 
more fully. But for my sake, I beg you will abandon the 
use of that nom de plume and sign your letters simply Df 
Sandran. Your rich uncle, Higginbotham, need have no 
regrets concerning his treatment of me. Pardon the brev- 
ity of this ; — not that my time is so much occupied, but for 
certain reasons not worth mentioning. You see, I must 
always tell the exact truth, and indeed, I suppose what little 
position I -have attained in the world, may be ascribed to my 
habit of punctiliousness in this respect. 

“ Very affectionately yours, Gadsby.” 

I will direct the letter myself. Now, if you please, we 
will answer Mr. Thomas Applejack. “ Dear Applejack : I 

have received your kind letter of (you can put in the 

proper date, Fishback), and am much obliged for the wines. 
I had intended before I left New York, to order a few cases 
of Chateau Lafitte, but it escaped my mind, — Clarets, you 
know, are better suited to this weather. I will attend to 
your affairs here at the first opportunity. 

“ Yours truly, Gadsby.” 

And now for Mr. Pretzelbanger. 

Fish. Pretzelhammer, sir. 

Jon. Ah, yes, — Pretzelhammer! “Dear Pretzelham- 
mer : I was glad to hear by yours of blank that the 6 Econ- 
omy Mine’ is well under way. Send me all the shares you 
can spare, as I presume my friends will require them. 
Please not to mention that I am here. I am perfectly will- 
ing to attend to your interests here, but not to those of all 
Nevada, you understand. It will be time enough for that, 
next winter. Yours truly, Gadsby.” 

And now for the Irishman ! — what ’s his name ? 

Fish. Patrick O’Brien. 


22 


THE SPANISH MISSION, OR 


[Act III. 


Jon. “Dear Patrick, — Your letter of blank date is re- 
ceived. Nothing can be done about the post-office now, — 
especially if it should come to be known that I am in Wash- 
ington. You will therefore remain silent on that point. If 
you keep quiet, I can work for you. How much is the place 
worth? — I suppose the incumbent, Dempsy, would spare 
no expense to retain the place? He has a great many 
friends, I believe. Yours, Gadsby.” 

And now, Mr. Fishback, suppose we stroll about town for 
a while ; but strictly incog., you understand. You can call 
me Smith, if you like. 

Fish. Very well. [ Rises , and then both taking their hats, 
the curtain falls as they exeunt.~\ 


ACT III. 

SCENE I. 

Parlor at Madam Pumpington’s in Washington. Madam Pumpington, 
her daughter Ophelia , Commodore Copperbottom ( retired from service), 
and Lieutenant Limpsicus, in uniform. 

Mad. P. They say, Commodore, that Mr. Gadsby is very 
rich. 

Com. C. I am willing ; but he is no match for Ophelia ; 
no match for the old Virginia blood of the Copperbottoms. 

Mad. P. But really, Commodore, I don’t feel so sure 
that the blood of the Copperbottoms is so very remarkable. 
Blood is all very nice ; but, without money, what is it all 
worth ? 

Oph. Or without brains, either ? Of course, I don’t mean 
to say the Copperbottom brains are not as good as the av- 
erage. 

Limp. ( who carries an eye-glass and parts his hair in the 
middle .) But really, now, he ’s such an awkward fellow. 
Oph. Did you ever see him ? 

Limp. No, indeed ! I guessed at it. 


Scene I.] 


THE MEMBER FROM NEVADA. 


23 


Mad. P. Talk about old Virginia blood ! I can’t see 
why old Pennsylvania blood is not just as good ; and, for 
all we know, Gadsby may be descended from the kings of 
England, while the Copperbottoms may have come from the 
lower classes. * 

Com. C. Gracious heavens, madam ! You are crazy on 
this money question. 

Oph. For my part, I don’t care for money ; but I must 
say Mr. Gadsby has a fine position for a man of his age. 

Limp. But I heard him say, myself, he didn’t like the 
opera. 

Oph. I thought you said you never saw him ! 

Limp. I never did, — but I heard him ; I was listening. 

Com. C. In the name of common sense, madam, what ’s 
the use of talking so much about money? You have 
enough ; what do you want of more ? You have it to-day ; 
it may be gone to-morrow. But your blood, madam, that ’s 
what sticks to you. You have the comforts of life ; what 
more do you want ? You can’t take your money to heaven 
with you ! 

Limp. By Jove, I never thought of that before. That’s 
a devilish singular idea ; devilish singular ! 

c5 7 C* 

Mad. P. Nor your blood, either, Commodore. Consider, 
Commodore, if this is not all a mere notion you entertain, 
concerning the superior blood of the Copperbottoms. How 
do you show it ? How do you prove it ? Certainly, there 
is no outside indication of good blood in one single member 
of nine tenths of those families who claim it. But Gadsby 
looks aristocratic. He has the grand air, Commodore, the 
distinguished — je ne sais guoi. 

Oph. I think Uncle Copperbottom is quite right in his 
ideas about money ; and I think with you, mamma, that 
where good blood is, it is evident in the face and bearing, 
and needs no written certificate and no bragging; but I 
must confess I like position. There is more ozone in the 
atmosphere, when you have position ; and the sun himself 
seems to rise especially on your account. 

Com. C. But these men of position are so soon forgotten, 
Ophelia. Position is even more perishable than money. It 


24 THE SPANISH MISSION, OR [Act III. 

is a mushroom, a Jack’s bean-stalk, all house without foun- 
dation ; in short, as the poet says, — 

“An ignis fatuus that bewitches, 

Anti leads men into pools and ditches.” 

By Jove, it is a martin’s-kox, which, when fixed on a ridge- 
pole, fools admire, but once on the ground, is not noticed. 

Limp. Ah, Commodore, but if a man can dance well, — 
there is something worth having. There ain’t one man in 
five hundred, that knows how to throw his legs. It ’s a great 
thing, too, if you know how to swell a man down. I wish 
you could see me swell a feller down. \_Enter servant with 
a card , which she hands to the Commodore .] 

Com. C. No, it is not for me ! [ turning to Madam Pump- 
ington.~\ It is time for me to be going. I wish you joy of 
your company. 

Mad. P. (to servant .) Ask her in. 

Com. C. I wonder, Madam, that you entertain the visits 
of this Mrs. Dunloby, a damned lobbyist ! Come, Limpsi- 
cus, it ’s a fine evening for a drive. 

Mad. P. I am sorry, Commodore, that you have so poor 
an opinion of Mrs. Dunloby ; but I stand by her, you know. 

Com. C. Do as you like. I wish you good evening. 

Limp. Good evening, ladies. \_Exeunt Commodore C. 
and Limpsicus. Enter on the other side , Mrs. Dunloby , ele- 
gantly dressed .] 

Mrs. D. Why, my darling Pumpey, how do you do ? and 
you, too, Ophelia? It seems most an age since I saw you 
yesterday. 

Mad. P. and Oph. Glad to see you. [ They embrace .] 

Mrs. D. It is dreadfully warm ; and then, you know, I 
am so horrid fat. 

Mad. P. Oh, no, not fat, — a most delicious embonpoint. 

Mrs. D. Well, I confess it is better to be a little too fat, 
than a good deal too lean. Fat women get along in the 
world as well as the lean. They carry more weight ; don’t 
you think so, Pumpey ? 

Mad. P. Not always, I hope. 

Oph. What is the news to-day ? 

Mrs. D. O Lord, all I know is that somebody is head- 


Scene I.] 


THE MEMBER FROM NEVADA. 


25 


over-ears in love with somebody ; and you can guess who 
the somebodies are. 

Oph. I am sure I can’t imagine what you mean. 

Mad. P. Have you seen Mr. Gadsby to-day ? 

Mrs. D. I just came from there. I have done nothing 
but drive around all day, and I am tired to death. The 
twentieth call I made, was on Mr. Gadsby, and, as I said 
before, somebody is dreadfully in love with somebody. Of 
coui e, it would be impossible for you to guess what I mean. 

Oph. F or pity’s sake, what do you mean ? 

Mrs. D. Mean ? You ought to know what I mean. Do 
you think any man of the susceptible nature of Mr. Gadsby, 
could converse with a creature like you for half an hour, 
and not be completely beside himself? ready, in fact, in a 
certain event, to commit some rash act, — suicide, perhaps ? 

Oph. Really, Mrs. Dunloby, I do not think he was very 
much pleased with me. I am afraid you are joking. 

Mad. P. Indeed, I do not think it would be in human 
nature to be altogether insensible to the many good quali- 
ties which Ophelia possesses, if I am her mother. Nor do 
I think that I overestimate her. 

Mrs. D. And I must say, that, if there is no objection on 
your part, I conceive there is nothing in the world more 
certain than that a proposition will be made, a very decided 
proposition. 

Oph. I am afraid you jump at conclusions, Mrs. Dun- 
loby. I am too young to dream of such a thing as mar- 
riage. The idea of marriage makes me tremble all over. 

Mad. P. We shall hope to see Mr. Gadsby here very 
often, and as to any other matter, we can leave that to the 
future. But who, do you think, will get the Spanish Mis- 
sion ? Have you sounded Mr. Gadsby ? 

Mrs. D. That ’s neither here nor there. Gadsby is too 
politic to commit himself just yet. All I know is that he has 
it between his thumb and finger. Now, this is between us. 
Gadsby did insinuate that Commodore Copperbottom stood 
high in his esteem. He was only afraid those Spanish Dons 
might think the Commodore’s pedigree not quite up to the 
mark, you see — although, no doubt, very good ; but, you 


26 THE SPANISH MISSION, OR [Act III. 

know, in Spain they are crazy on that subject : indeed, they 
seem to be cracked on almost every subject. 

Mad. P. Ha, ha, ha ! That is very good. Ophelia, 
what do you think the Commodore would say to that ? I 
never heard anything more delightful ; we must tell him 
that. 

Mrs. D. Oh no, I beg of you, don’t mention it to him. 
Promise me you’ll say nothing about that. It might hurt 
his feelings, you know ; that is, if commodores have any 
feelings. 

Mad. P. Of course not ; but it ’s almost too good to keep. 
It would make the Commodore jump like hot corn. 

Mrs. D. Well, darlings, I must be going. [ifoses.] I 
will see you again very soon, — Providence permitting, as 
my Methodist uncle says. 

Mad. P. Dont go yet ! Why, you haven’t been here five 
minutes. Don’t go yet ! 

Mrs. D. My horses are impatient to get to stable. Good- 
by, darlings. [ They embrace .] 

Mad. P. and Oph. Good-by. Good-by. [j Exit Mrs. 
Dunloby. On the other side enters the Commodore.~\ 

Com. C. Thank God, as I came in, I heard you say good- 
by to that woman. It was the best good-by that I ever 
heard. 

Mad. P. Why do you say “ that woman % ” Have I not 
a right to entertain whom I will ? Am I not in my own 
house, Commodore ? 

Com. C. Certainly, madam. 

Mad. P. Commodore, “ that woman ” never did you any 
harm ; and in fact she may do you considerable good. If 
you’ll behave yourself, I’ll tell you something. But I’m 
afraid you’ll go into ecstasies over it, and have the apoplexy, 
or something of that sort. 

Com. C. Very well, I’m ready. 

Mad. P. But you mustn’t let on to a living soul ! This 
Mr. Gadsby, whom you think so little of, has been kind 
enough to insinuate to Mrs. Dunloby, that he had thought 
of you as a suitable person for the Spanish Mission. 

Com. C. The devil he has ! Well, I have no objection to 


Scene I.] 


THE MEMBER FROM NEVADA. 


27 


that ! I may have been a trifle hasty in my conclusions 
respecting Mr. Gadsby. After all, he ’s a devilish good 
fellow, ain’t he ? Capital fellow ! By the way, didn’t you 
talk of inviting him here to-morrow ? 

Mad. P. Not quite as soon as that, Commodore. Indeed, 
I don’t know that I mentioned inviting him here at all. 

Com. C. Ah, then, I was mistaken. 

Mad. P. But I will, if you say so. 

Com. C. Of course ; that is the way to get better ac- 
quainted. I should be delighted to see him. 

Mad. P. But, Commodore, I ought to say that Mr. 
Gadsby stated there might be a slight obstacle in the way of 
sending you to Spain. 

Com. C. And what was that, pray ? 

Mad. P. (laughing.) He was only afraid those Spanish 
Dons might not think your pedigree quite up to the mark. 

Com. C. Great God ! The Copperbottoms not good 
enough for them, the rascally olive-eaters ? Did Gadsby 
say that ? Madam, I’ll have nothing to do with Gadsby, nor 
with Spain either. Pedigree ! Spanish Dons ! 

Mad. P. You see, Commodore, everybody is not of your 
opinion, as regards the Copperbottoms. 

Com. C. But confound it, madam, haven’t I got the gene- 
alogy? — and I thank God there’s not a Spanish name in 
the catalogue. But who ’s Gadsby, that he dares to talk in 
this manner about the Copperbottoms ! Where ’s his pedi- 
gree ! He hasn’t the pedigree of a jackass. 

Mad. P. But Mr. Gadsby is not to blame. He only 
reflects the opinions of others in this matter. And you 
must know very well that there are plenty of families in 
Europe, that wouldn’t wipe their shoes on the Copper- 
bottoms. Why, there are families there so old, they regard 
the Czar of Russia as a parvenu ; — old Roman families, 
Commodore, with noses a foot long ; and absolutely mouldy 
with age. 

Com. C. Well, all right. I suppose Gadsby has been 
listening to these jealous curs here in Washington, who 
always did stand in my way. But let me once get into 
Spain, and if anybody squeaks, I’ll fight him, Don or no 


28 THE SPANISH MISSION, OR [Act III. 

Don. A set of blasted lemon-chewers ! that ’s what they 
are ! I wish you good-evening, madam. \_Exit.~] 

Oph. Ha ! ha ! ha ! That was splendid ! 

Mad. P. The best treat I have had for a year. Plenty 
of fire in that flint, Ophelia. Come, let ’s go down and have 
a little tea. [Exeunt. 

SCENE II. 

Jones's Rooms, at Mrs. Scarlett's. Present, Jones, in handsome dressing- 

gown. 

Jon. I wonder why the Commodore doesn’t come. [Enter 
the Commodore , with large roll under his arm.~\ Why, how 
do you do, Commodore ? I was just wondering why you 
didn’t come. In fact, I was really starving for your com- 
pany. 

Com. C. Very well, I thank you. How is Mr. Gadsby ? 

Jon. Never better. Ah, you have the package Madam 
Pumpington was to send me. 

Com. C. No, Mr. Gadsby, I forgot that, I am sorry to 
say ; but I promised my nephew that I would bring round 
to him this evening, our family-tree. This is my family- 
tree, Mr. Gadsby. 

Jon. Indeed! Very extraordinary family, sir ! It’s very 
few families have a tree that big, my dear sir. 

Com. C. Oh no, — at least, — well, I suppose one might 
take some little pride in a matter of that sort. Yes, : — I 
may say, as families go, it is, — well, perhaps it is extraor- 
dinary. We can’t wipe out the facts, you know, even if we 
would. 

Jon. Please let me see it. I take a great interest in 
these matters. My own family is not undistinguished. Do 
you never feel a sort of weariness, Commodore, under the 
weight of these old family considerations ? 

Com. C. ( unrolling the package.) You see, Mr. Gadsby, 
there were three brothers by my name, who first came over 
to this country. 

Jon. Well, that is very singular! Do you know, it was 
the same in my case ? There was Robert Gadsby, Richard 
Gadsby, and Hugh Gadsby. I descend from Hugh Gadsby. 


Scene II.] 


THE MEMBER FROM NEVADA. 


29 


Com. C. I am glad to hear it, Mr. Gadsby. The three 
brothers in my family, were of the very identical names, 
Richard, Robert, and Hugh Copperbottom. That is really 
very singular ! 

Jon. But tell me, who were the most distinguished of 
these ? those in the gilt letters ? 

Com. C. No, on the whole, the red letters give the most 
distinguished names ; unless, indeed, that may be true of the 
names in violet. Now, there was old Manrico Copper- 
bottom, — old Manrico, — grand old fellow ! 

Jon. Manrico f Why, that name has quite a Spanish 
flavor. 

Com. C. Yes ? 

Jon. But what were you going to say of him ? 

Com. C. He was a very remarkable man, — I may say, 
a very remarkable man. 

Jon. I do not remember ever to have heard the name. 

Com. C. Is it possible ? I have his life at the house in 
two quarto volumes ; I will bring it down some day. 

Jon. Oh, don’t trouble yourself about that. Was he in 
the battle of Waterloo, or something of that sort ? 

Com. C. Not exactly. But there is the celebrated Gen- 
ette Copperbottom. You have heard of him I presume ? 

Jon. ( 'putting his hand to his forehead.) It strikes me 
I have. Was he not a preacher? or something of that 
kind ? a sort of lay-preacher ? 

Com. C. No. You are probably thinking of the Rev. 
Phineas Copperbottom, D. D., who preached down in Prince 
George’s County so many years, and died with four hundred 
niggers. 

Jon. Why, how was that ? Did he preach to a colored 
congregation ? Did the meeting-house fall ? 

Com. C. Oh no ! I mean he died worth four hundred 
niggers. 

Jon. Oh ! That’s the very man. Prince George’s County 
is somewhere in Virginia, is it not? near the Natural Bridge ? 

Com. C. No, in Maryland. But Genette Copperbottom 
was quite a different person. It would take me all night to 
give his history ; and even then I couldn’t do him justice. 


30 


THE SPANISH MISSION , OR 


[Act III. 


Jon. Oh, well, then, I beg you will not put yourself out 
to that extent ; you can tell me about him sometime when I 
am at your house, you know \_y awning']. I see very clearly, 
by the many red-lettered names you have here, that your 
family is a remarkable one, sir, — very distinguished, sil- 
very distinguished : absolutely overwhelming. 

CoMi C. Sometime, Mr. Gadsby, I will go into detail ; 
sometime, when you would like to while away an hour or 
two. [ Rolls up the J/ss.] 

Jon. There are two or three persons of your name in 
Nevada, but I conclude they did not descend from Hugh 
Copperbottom, as they are rather indifferent persons. 

Com. C. Is it possible ? Interlopers, I suppose. 

Jon. Commodore, I presume you will think it strange, 
but I have at home very strong evidence that not only 
“ Junius,” but “ The Man in the Iron Mask ” were maternal 
ancestors of mine. My maternal ancestry numbers many 
brilliant names ; and you know a man gets his best qualities, 
oftentimes, from his mother. I presume you have heard of 
the Duke of Marlborough, John Churchill ? and of the cele- 
brated Carnot, whom Napoleon, after the failure of Water- 
loo, said sadly, he had known too late ? and of the natural- 
ist, Buffon ? They all come in, Commodore, they all come 
in. 

Com. C. Really, Mr. Gadsby, you astonish me. 

Jon. Why, Commodore, do you think, then, I have no 
appearance of superior blood ? 

Com. C. Every appearance of it, sir. 

Jon. Sir William Jones, too, the great Orientalist, I for- 
got about him. Indeed, Commodore, if it were not for 
straining a point, I might speak of others, but I like to keep 
within bounds. They call me “ Honest Gadsby,” you know. 

Com. C. You were good enough to remark that the name 
of Manrico Copperbottom had a decidedly Spanish flavor, — 
a remark which has suggested to me to inquire if any person 
has yet been settled upon in your mind, as an eligible can- 
didate for the Spanish Mission, now vacant. 

Jon. True ; that is very natural. I am inclined to 
think, Commodore, that probably the best man for that 


Scene II.] THE MEMBER FROM NEVADA. 31 

place, would be found among the naval officers of our coun- 
try. What do you think ? 

Com. C. Well, upon my word, Mr. Gadsby, that is a 
very delicate question for one in my position to answer. 

Jon. This, however, is entirely between us. I cannot, — 
will not at present commit myself. It might greatly em- 
barrass me. It may not be altogether unsuspected bv you, 
Commodore, that I am engaged to be married in a few 
weeks ; but this is also a profound secret. When I am 
fairly married , Commodore, it will be natural to look out 
for my relatives. 

Com. C. Ah, yes ! very well, Mr. Gadsby [ taking his 
hat]. I have some matters of the Naval Service on my 
hands, and shall now be obliged to leave your most estima- 
ble company. 

Jon. {rising.) Good-day, then, Commodore. 

Com. C. Au revoir. [j Exit.] 

Jon. {laughing.) Buffon ! Ha ! ha ! — John Churchill, 
the Duke of Marlborough! Ho, ho ! Carnot! Sir William 
Jones ! Hi ! hi ! Great Heaven ! I almost begin to think I 
am related to these gentlemen. But I didn’t tell him these 
were my ancestors. I said they “ came inf — but into 
what ? — why into the house , when it rained, to be sure ! 
[A rap is heard at the door.] Come in ! \_Enter Mrs. 
Dunloby. Jones rises and meets her with enthusiasm. J Dun- 
loby, you are divine ! 

Mrs. D. Am I ? 

Jon. The most extraordinary woman I ever met; unless 
indeed you are an angel in woman’s clothes. 

Mrs. D. Good gracious, Mr. Jones ! 

Jon. In a word, I love you, — I adore you, — I — 

Mrs. D. Well, upon my soul, I am not accustomed to 
this sort of thing. 

Jon. I should hope not. Really, I should hope not. 

Mrs. D. Mr. Gadsby, I have come on business. If you 
wish to hear it, very well, — if not, I will retire. 

Jon. Mrs. Dunloby, I am afraid you have mistaken the 
import of my language. I have not made a proposition of 
marriage to you. 


32 


THE SPANISH MISSION, OR 


[Act III. 


Mrs. D. No ! of course not. 

Jon. Not but that under certain circumstances I might — 

Mrs. D. I don’t want a husband. I have had enough, 
already, Mr. Jones. You see a woman with sense enough 
[ pointing to her forehead~\ to take care of herself. Com- 
mon women may have husbands ; as for me, I must be as 
free as a bird on wing. Don’t talk to me of marriage ; — I 
hate the word. 

Jon. But consider, Mrs. Dunloby, how important in 
many respects it is to have a husband. 

Mrs. D. No doubt it is for some, but not for me ; be 
sure of that ! I am the Empress of Bohemia, sir, — crowned 
so by — myself, with all due ceremonies. 

Jon. You are certainly a very uncommon woman. But, 
love-matters aside, may I inquire if you have yet negotiated 
any stock of the “ Economy Mine ? ” 

Mrs. D. I called to inform you that I have sold three- 
fourths of it already ; and there are the receipts, less ten per 
cent. [ Hands him a roll of billsi] 

Jon. And are you to receive only ten per cent. ? I shall 
have to make you a present. 

Mrs. D. That is my regular charge in such cases. 

Jon. How much is here ? [ Turning over the bills.~\ 

Mrs.' D. Seventeen thousand, five hundred dollars. 

Jon. Ah ! Can you tell me, Mrs. Dunloby, the safest 
method of transmitting this money to a distant point? 

Mrs. D. By express, of course. 

Jon. And not by a post-office money -order ? 

Mrs. D. I should say not. 

Jon. Very well ; all I want, is to get it safely into the 
hands of my correspondents. Now, madam, won’t you have 
a glass of wine ? 

Mrs. D. No, I thank you, I never drink wine. It mud- 
dles my brains, Mr. Gadsby. 

Jon. Mrs. Dunloby, — about how many candidates do 
you think are now impressed with the idea that the Spanish 
Mission will come to them ? 

Mrs. D. I suppose, at least eight or nine 

Jon. I don’t see how I am going to give it to all of them. 


Scene I] 


THE MEMBER FROM NEVADA. 


33 


I wish you would say to them, in a way you know how, — 
I mean to all but the Commodore, — that you think it not 
unlikely some Nevada man will get it after all. How can 
a man go back on his constituents, I should like to know, 
without strong reasons ! 

Mrs. 1). I see, Mr. Gadsby, one can’t do everything, 
even if one would. But good-by ! I must go. 

Jon. Good-by ! [ Shakes hands with her.~\ But I will 

escort you to your carriage. 

[ Curtain falls as they exeunt ]. 


ACT IV. 

SCENE 1. 

Mr. Jones's Apartments at Mrs. Scarlett's — Jones and Fishbacfc. 

Jon. (at a table on which are glasses and decanters .) 
Fishback, I foresee that I shall have to resign my post in 
Congress. I find that Washington is no place for an honest 
man. 

Fish. Why, Mr. Gadsby, you do not seem to reflect that 
I live here. 

Jon. But you, Fishback, are not subject to the tempta- 
tions that I am. 

Fish. For Heaven’s sake, Mr. Gadsby, you do not really 
intend to resign, at the very outset of your political career ! 

Jon. No, Fishback, I will not, if you can keep me honest, 
as I always have been ; but you need not feel surprised to 
find me gone at any time. I will arrange, beforehand, with 
some good banker here, and if I should then conclude to go 
on a sudden, my bills will all be paid. An honest livelihood 
in Nevada, is better than a thousand bushels of ill-got green- 
backs in the District of Columbia. Take a drink, Fish- 
back. [ They drink. ] By the way, Fishback, I am very 
much annoyed that I left in New York the list of my con- 
3 


i 


34 


THE SPANISH MISSION , OR 


[Act IV. 


stituents. I wanted to send out some seeds, more particu- 
larly the cereals, you know. But then, that will do by and 
by. Furthermore, I am really not quite ready to let them 
know I am here. Fishback, this Congressional business is 
a dreary bore. I wish I had never consented to let them 
use my name. 

Fish. You seem to be quite blue this evening. Has 
anything happened to disturb your serenity ? 

Jon. On the contrary, Fishback [ pulling out the roll of 
greenbacks, I have negotiated sales of the mining-stock 
very successfully. What do you say to that ? [ Holds up 

the money . ] 

Fish. You haven’t sold it all, have you ? 

Jon. No, I kept back some for Mrs. Scarlett, and for you, 
if you want any. But as the proceeds go to my constitu- 
ents, at once, it will be necessary for aijy purchaser to pay 
down, and perhaps Mrs. Scarlett has not the ready money ? 

Fish. I will engage that the rest of the shares are paid 
for to-morrow. 

Jon. Very well. Take another drink, Fishback. 

Fish, {having filled his glass). Here’s to the Economy 
Mine ! 

Jon. With all my heart. [Fills a glass. They drink. 
Carolina brings in a card.] Show him in. Mrs. Scarlett’s 
friend and relative, Mr. Funk. \_To Fishback.'] 

Fish. Funk? Well, I will excuse myself for a while. 
[ Exit Fishback. Enter, opposite , Mr. Funk.] 

Jon. Glad to see you, Mr. Funk. What can I do for 
you this evening ? 

Funk. Glad to see you too. I only stepped in for a short 
call. 

Jon. Have something? [Motions to the table.] 

Funk. Certainly, I never refuse. [Drinks.] 

Jon. It is very indelicate to refuse, Mr. Funk. I tell 
you what, Funk, that Spanish Mission bothers me a good 
deal. Do you feel certain that you could run it ? Do you 
understand the Spanish character well enough ? It is a very 
hard people to get along with, you know. It takes a man 
of iron to hold that place well. 


Scene I.] THE MEMBER FROM NEVADA. 35 

Funk. Oh, as for that, I understand them thoroughly. I 
have lived in Brazil, you know. 

Jon. But the Brazilians are of Portuguese origin. There’s 
a vast difference between Spanish and Portuguese. In the 
first place the language is different, and in the second, there *s 
as much difference in character between the Spanish and 
Portuguese, as between new rum and old whiskey, locusts 
and cicadas, the mole and the mole-cricket, a blind eye and 
an eye with a blinder, lemons and bananas, sherry and port, 
still wine and sparkling, fate and fortune, Jews and Unita- 
rians, Soonees and Sheeites, fish and alligators. Do you 
think, Mr. Funk, that you realize this? I mean this differ- 
ence between the Spanish and Portuguese ? 

Funk. Yes, Mr. Gadsby, I am aware there is a very great 
difference, very great. 

Jon. No, I don’t say great , but there is a slight difference ; 
and of that delicate, volatile kind, as requires a man of ex- 
traordinary insight to take advantage of. Now [impres- 
sively,'] I fear that a long stay with the Portuguese, would 
have a tendency, — mark me, — a tendency , I say, to unfit 
the sojourner for a successful diplomat in a Spanish country. 

Funk. But I did not make a long stay in Brazil, Mr. 
Gadsby ; — in fact, I was there not above a month at the 
longest. 

Jon. Oh ! [ laughing ] oh ! and you think a residence of a 
month in Brazil, fits you for a minister plenipotentiary to 
Spain? in other words, that an apprenticeship to a tailor 
would make a man a good shoemaker ? or the study of di- 
vinity at Cambridge, would make a man pray like John 
Calvin ? 

Funk. No, I should hope I did not convey that idea. J 
had no intention to convey that idea. 

Jon. Well, never mind, Mr. Funk; you have qualities 
that I am not insensible of, and — [ Carolina brings in a 
card] what ’s this ? [reading card] — Saunders ? 

Funk. ( looking alarmed, ). Algernon Saunders? You 
don’t mean to say it is Algernon Saunders ? 

Jon. The same. Show him up, Carolina. [Exit Caro - 


36 


THE SPANISH MISSION, OR 


[Act IV 


Funk. But really, Mr. Gadsby, — Saunders knows I am 
after this place, and I’d rather he wouldn’t see me here. 

Jon. Very well, — there is no need of his seeing you. 
[ Goes to closet door and opens it.~\ Step in here ! \JFunk 
enters the closet and Jones turns the key on him. Enter 
Saunders.'] 

Jon. Glad to see you, friend Saunders. 

Saun. How is my noble friend Gadsby ? 

Jon. Take something, Mr. Saunders [ motioning to table]. 

Saun. Excuse me, I feel sick to-night. That mission 
question — [ loud ]. 

Jon. Hush ! — \_points to the door where Funk not so 
loud ! 

Saun. ( looking now at the door and now at Jones.) What 
in the devil is the matter ? 

Jon. Sick child in the next room : am afraid it won’t live 
long. 

Saun. Ah ! poor thing ! — what is the trouble with it ? 

Jon. Measles. Doctors have given her up. But what 
were you saying? 

Saun. I say that mission question has made me sick. 

Jon. Too sick to drink? You must be unconscionably 
sick, then, I should say. 

Saun. What is that ? [ Pointing to one of the decanters .] 

Jon. Bourbon whiskey: quite a fiery article, however: 
— fusil-oil enough to float a gunboat. 

Saun. I believe I will take a little ; just a drop. \_Pours 
a glass nearly full, and drinks it clear.] 

Jon. (laughing). Well, — what about the mission ques- 
tion ? 

Saun. ( wiping his lips). Mr. Gadsby, that’s exactly 
what I would like to know. 

Jon. Saunders, I have been thinking over your case, and 
wondering what the devil you want that situation for, any 
way. You are rich ; the salary is absolutely no considera- 
tion whatever, and why you want to exile yourself among a 
parcel of bull-fighters, inquisitors, and all that sort of thing, 
I must confess, strikes me with astonishment. 

Saun. But Mr. Gadsby, I do, — that’s all I can say. 


Scene I.] 


THE MEMBER FROM NEVADA. 


37 


Jon. You ’ d better give your money, then, to our Orphan 
Asylum out in Nevada, before you go ; for if the Inquisition 
find out what a heretic you are, they ’ll burn you alive, and 
mix your unfortunate ashes with the Guadalquivir. 

Saun. Is the Inquisition running yet? I thought they 
had stopped that. 

Jon. Who knows? Quien sabe, Mr. Saunders ? They 
always kept very quiet, you remember; — silence is omi- 
nous, Mr. Saunders. 

Saun. Never mind ! I certainly have no objection to 
leaving behind something, handsome for your Orphan Asy- 
lum. Are you one of the trustees ? 

Jon. I am the sole trustee. I take charge of all the 
funds. That was where I got the name of “ Honest Gads- 
by.” 

Saun. Very well ; I shall attend to that matter. 

Jon. But here is the more important question, Saunders. 
Do you feel adequate to the responsibilities of the place? 
Is there no lingering doubt in your mind, whether your 
antecedents have rendered you exactly fit for the duties of 
so high and onerous a position ? You have been a man 
of leisure, Mr. Saunders, of elegant leisure, I may say. 

Saun. It is true. 

Jon. And have you ever devoted any considerable por- 
tion of that elegant leisure to the acquisition of the Spanish 
language and literature ? 

Saun. I have read “ Don Quixote ” and the plays of 
Lope de Vega. 

Jon. In the original ? 

Saun. No, I read them in the French. The French is 
the language of the court, you know. 

Jon. Ah, but the true flavor of the Spanish character 
is not to be learned through the volatile Frenchman. Be- 
sides, I am rather surprised that any one of your general 
good sense, could imagine for a moment that the perusal 
of a few plays and romances would constitute a statesman. 

Saun. Confound it, Gadsby, I didn’t say they would. 
You asked me if I had read any Spanish literature, and I 
answered you accordingly. Statesmanship, I should sa}', 


38 THE SPANISH MISSION, OR [Act IV. 

is a thing apart from the mere knowledge of any language. 
That ’s what I should say about it. 

Jon. To be sure, Mr. Saunders, I beg your pardon. But 
still, do you not admit that it would be much better if a 
minister to China, for example, should understand Chinese ? 

Saun. No, I don’t admit it ; I think if he had learned 
Chinese, it would be an evidence that he was a devilish 
fool. That’s my opinion. 

Jon. {laughing.) You talk well, Saunders, and [Joweinng 
his voice , and looking toward the closet where Mr. Funk 
I must acknowledge that I am very favorably impressed. 
[Enter Carolina with a card.~\ What ? — Roberts ? 

Saun. The deuce! Is Roberts below ? 

Jon. Show him in. [ Exit Carolina .] Why? Don’t you 
like Roberts ? 

Saun. Yes, I like him well enough ; but if he should see 
me here, he would know exactly the condition of things. 
I’d a little rather not see Roberts. I mean, I don’t want 
him to see me. 

Jon. He shan’t see you. [ Goes to another closet and 
motions to Saunders .] Go in there! \_Saunders goes in , 
and Jones turns the key on him.~\ \_Enter Robert s.~\ 

Jon. How are you, Roberts? 

Rob. How d’ye do ? [loudly. ] 

Jon. Hush ! [Points to a door. ] I am afraid these walls 
have ears, and I know you came to talk about the Mission. 

Rob. I should like to catch any one listening ; I’d shake 
his daylights out of him. I’d rattle his head on the con- 
crete. 

Jon. It is best to speak in a moderate tone. I have 
been thinking over what you said about your residence in 
the Argentine Republic. You said you were there, inside 
of three months. I mentioned this to a friend, and he ob- 
served that a space of two months, or one month, or a week 
even, or a day, was a space of time “ inside of three 
months.” 

Rob. Does the fellow pretend to say I never saw the 
Gauchos ? Show me the man who says I never saw the 
Gauchos ! 


Scene I.] 


THE MEMBER FROM NEVADA 


39 


Jon. No, not exactly that, but he seemed very critical 
about the time you were there, and referred me to Captain 
Hollinshed, with whom you sailed. I remarked this to 
Hollinshed, and he smiled. Now, I don’t care how long 
you were there, but if there only for a day or so, I think 
your observation as to the time you stayed there, showed 
diplomacy, at least. \_Laughs.~\ 

Rob. Well, to be accurate, I believe we stopped there 
exactly two days. 

Jon. ( laughing , and then suddenly assuming a severe 
tone.) Would you be good enough to inform me upon what 
qualifications you depend to grapple with the onerous duties 
of this post ? 

Rob. To tell the truth, Mr. Gadsby, I have never con- 
ceived that it required a person of extraordinary endow- 
ments to meet the emergencies of that position. 

Jon. But there is a good deal of money in it, you are 
aware, and is not that a test of the ability required for 
maintaining the dignity of the place ? 

Rob. I fear you are joking, Mr. Gadsby. 

Jon. No, Mr. Roberts, I am not joking. I tell you, 
Roberts, it is a grave responsibility that I have thrust upon 
me, to select the proper man. If you felt it as I do, you 
would not wonder at my caution in the premises. In the 
first place, it needs a man of family. 

Rob. I suppose you are aware that I am? I have no 
less than thirteen children. 

Jon. Heavens, Roberts, — that spoils all ! I meant by 
a man of family, a person of distinguished connections ; 
but however distinguished your connections might be, Mr. 
Roberts, I don’t care if the Kings of Tophet or the Em- 
perors of Siam, — if you have thirteen children, that ends 
the matter. 

Rob. Why, how so ? 

Jon. How so ? Why, is it not obvious that a man with 
thirteen children, cannot do his duty by them and by his 
country at the same time ? 

Rob. But you do not reflect that I can leave them all 
at home ? 


40 


THE SPANISH MISSION, OR 


[Act IV. 


Jon. So you might, Mr. Roberts, but you know very 
well, that such a course would subject you to the most 
invidious remarks ; and the circumstance would be taken 
advantage of to unseat you. Besides, it would be a beastly 
thing to leave thirteen children behind one in that way. 

Rob. But could not you sustain me in such an emer- 
gency ? 

Jon. My dear Roberts, what would be the result? Every- 
body would say “ Here is ‘ Honest Gadsby,’ puffing the 
fortunes of a man who has deserted a family of thirteen 
children.” How could I endure a reproach of that charac- 
ter ? Thank God my reputation has been stainless hither- 
to, and I mean to keep it so. 

Rob. Well, suppose then, that I should leave half of 
them at home and take the other half with me ? 

Jon. Good heavens, Mr. Roberts, do you not perceive 
that such a course would be mathematically impossible, to 
take six and a half with you, and leave the other six and 
a half in America? 

Rob. You know what I mean, Mr. Gadsby. 

Jon. Do you then mean you would take six with you 
and leave six at home ? What would you do with the odd 
one ? — kill him or her, or leave him or her on some deso- 
late island, half-way between, to die like a dog, or to live 
like Robinson Crusoe ? 

Rob. Very good joke, Mr. Gadsby. 

Jon. (as if suddenly struck by a brilliant thought.) If 
ybu only had fourteen children, now ! 

Rob. It is not impossible \_ putting his thumbs through 
the armholes of his waistcoat ], it is not impossible I say, — 
but I may have by the time I am ready to sail. I have 
known more remarkable things happen in my time. 

Jon. And would you, do you pretend to say, go off there 
to the Pillars of Hercules, leaving a mere infant behind 
you ? or should you, on the other hand, venture to subject 
the tender thing to all the numerous and unavoidable con- 
tingencies and vicissitudes of a sea voyage, and the fearful 
responsibility of the remainder-biscuit ? 

Rob. I think, nevertheless, I should take him with me. 


Scene I.] 


THE MEMBER FROM NEVADA. 


41 


Jon. Him! him! You speak with a great degree of 
confidence as to the sex of this problematical fourteenth 
child of yours ! 

Rob. Him or her, of course, as the case might be. 

Jon. Very well; don’t forestall nature ! But all this is 
purely hypothetical, Mr. Roberts. As the case stands, you 
have but thirteen children, and that is all it will do to take 
into consideration. The idea of setting up a coach* and-six 
on a mere nonentity ! 

Rob. This is the first time I ever heard, Mr. Gadsby, that 
the number of a man’s children could stand in the way of his 
advancement. 

Jon. ( impressively .) But you see they do ! 

Rob. Am I to understand, then, Mr. Gadsby, that if I 
had no children, I could receive the nomination ? 

Jon. That is neither here nor there, since you have the 
children, — thirteen naked and undisguisable facts ! You 
wouldn’t undertake to murder them, I hope ! But I may 
say, that if you had none at all, a great obstacle would be 
removed. The children are an obstacle, Mr. Roberts. You 
never ought to have had any children. 

Rob. (laughing!) Well, then, to tell the truth, I never 
did have any. 

Jon. (laughing.) Upon my word, Roberts, you are the 
most unconscionable liar I ever listened to. I do not know 
what to believe. 

Rob. I freely acknowledge, Mr. Gadsby, that I am, — a 
liar of the first water ; and I conclude I will make all the 
better a diplomatist for that reason. 

Jon. Well now [ impressively ], do you know that I never 
told a lie in my life ? 

Rob. I know they call you “ Honest Gadsby.” 

Jon. It is just possible that I need a man like you to 
supplement myself ; for a man of truth is very much as- 
sisted, oftentimes, by some friend who is not over-scrupulous 
in that regard. By the way, if I should ask you to head a 
subscription-paper for the benefit of an orphan asylum, of 
which I am the curator, what would you say ? I want to 
know what you would say. 


42 THE SPANISH MISSION, OR [Act IV. 

Rob. Certainly, I will head it, in the event I get this po- 
sition. 

Jon. T had much rather hear you say, Mr. Roberts, that 
you would not head the paper, for then I should feel toler- 
ably certain that you would. 

Rob. Ha! ha! Well, that is very good. [A noise is 
heard at one of the closets.] What is that noise ? 

Jon. The doctor has come, I suppose. 

Rob. The doctor ? Is any one sick ? 

Jon. Did you ever have the measles ? 

Rob. ( starting up.) Measles ? The devil ! You don’t say 
any one has the measles in this house ? the very disease I 
dread of all others ! 

J on. Don’t go, Mr. Roberts ; it is not a bad case ; they 
have hopes of the child. 

Rob. Hopes ? have hopes ? It must be a very bad case, 
then. 

Jon. Not so bad as if they had no hopes [laughing']. 

Rob. (in visible consternation.) I’ll see you to-morrow, 
somewhere. Good-by. I suppose you have had the mea- 
sles ? 

Jon. Yes, a dozen times. Good-by, Mr. Roberts ; I will 
see you to morrow. [Exit Roberts.] 

[Jones goes to the closet and lets out Mr. Funk , who ap- 
pears very much disgusted at having had to remain there 
so long. He motions to Mr. Funk to keep quiet and 
walk noiselessly ; and now enters Fishback, much intox- 
icated.] 

Fish. Mr. Gadsby [hie] I am your obedient servant. 

Jon. Be seated, Mr. Fishback. [Fishback stands in a 
decidedly leaning position , but manages not to fall.] By 
Gad, Fishback, you look like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. 
[Laughter.] 

Fish. Why, how are you, Funk ? How is your grand- 
mother ? [Hie.] 

[Staggers around the room. Hearing a noise in the closet , 
he takes hold of the key , turns it , and opening the door , 
discovers Mr. Saunders , who looks mortifed.] 

Funk. The devil ! [aside.] Why, how is this, Mr. 
Saunders ? [tantalizingly.] 


Scene I.] 


THE MEMBER FROM NEVADA. 


43 


Saun. Mr. Gadsby can explain it. [ Jones remains si- 
lent.'] I went in there to get rid of Roberts. [Jfr. Fish- 
back now sits down on the floor, laughing uproariously.] 

Funk. Well, that’s a good joke. Been shut up there in 
a dark closet, to get rid of Roberts ? Ha ! ha ! Roberts 
will enjoy this. 

Saun. Don’t tell Roberts, please. 

Funk. No? Wouldn’t like to have Roberts know it? 
Ha ! ha ! \_Fishback now laughs more loudly ; Mr. Saun- 
ders also attempts to laugh.] 

Funk. Come, Saunders, it is your treat. 

< Saun. All right. Come down to Welcker’s. Cham- 
pagne all round. 

Fish. Welcker’s? [ Staggers forward. They all take 
their hats, and laughing at Saunders, the curtain falls as 
they exeunt.] 


ACT Y. 

SCENE I. 

Mr. Jones's Rooms at Mrs. Scarlett's. Jones , Funk, Roberts, and 
Saunders discovered, all somewhat intoxicated. 

Jon. Well, gentlemen, I have been thinking over this 
matter, and I conclude that the fairest way to settle your 
respective claims, will be to apply the new rules of the 
Civil Service. These rules, you know, have been brought 
to such an extraordinary degree of perfection that, as I am 
credibly informed through a spirit-medium, they have ac- 
tually undertaken to adopt them in the other world. 

Saun. (laughing.) Very well ; I am willing. 

Funk. Of course, Mr. Gadsby, whatever commends itself 
to you, must be approved. 

Rob. Certainly. — I always ached for one of these exam- 
inations : it is so seldom in this world that you find any- 
thing perfectly fair. 

Jon. I will, therefore, take upon myself to ask you a few 


44 


THE SPANISH MISSION, OR 


[Act V. 


germane questions ; and you, Mr. Fishback, may write 
down the questions and the answers. \_Mr. Fishback ar- 
ranges to make the record. ] Suppose then [solemnly~\ Mr. 
Saunders, to inaugurate the examination, I ask you, in the 
first instance, what sort of people it is that live in Spain ? 

Saun. ( running his hand through his hair , as if endea- 
voring to collect his ideas.) — The Spanish, Mr. Gadsby, are 
a very quixotic people, as I have read history ; and their 
principal occupation is windmills, — that is, grinding corn, 
bark, and all that, for immediate or future consumption. As 
for their religion, everybody knows they are Jesuits ; and as 
for their morals, they are sufficiently shown in the opera of 
“ Don Juan.” 

Jon. (laughing.) A most lucid, not to say transparent 
statement. And what do you say, Mr. Funk, in answer to 
this highly interesting question ? 

Funk. Well, Mr. Gadsby, I should partially indorse the 
statement of Mr. Saunders, but he has clearly omitted to 
mention, that the people living on the coast of Spain are 
noted smugglers ; and moreover that another large portion 
of the people of that unhappy country, are engaged in 
starving bulls for the numerous bull-fights ; and that far 
the largest portion of the people obtain a precarious liveli- 
hood by cock-fighting. 

Jon. ( laughing loudly.) It seems indeed very singular 
that Mr. Saunders should have omitted from his statement, 
three facts of such common notoriety. And what can you 
add, Mr. Roberts, to what has already been said ? 

Rob. Perhaps I don’t understand the question ? 

Jon. The question is, what sort of people is it that live 
in Spain ? 

Rob. Why, my answer to that question would be, that 
the people living in Spain are Spaniards. 

Jon. (laughing.) On the whole, Mr. Roberts, I am in- 
clined to agree with you, and I believe your answer is the best 
of the three. Mr. Fishback, please mark down Mr. Roberts, 
on that question, — say, six in a scale of seven, and put 
down Mr. Funk, and Mr. Saunders, as one and two respec- 
tively. I will now ask a second question. How about the 
latitude of Spain, Mr. Saunders ? 


Scene I.J 


THE MEMBER FROM NEVADA. 


45 


Saun. Oh, I suppose you mean the climate ? Spain is 
said to be the awfulest, hottest, dustiest country in the 
known world. 

Jon. {laughing.) And what say you, Mr. Funk ? 

Funk. I understood you to inquire how many degrees of 
latitude east of Greenwich, the country lies: and within 
bounds, I should say not over seventy, at the outside. 

Rob. Why, bless you, that ’s longitude, not latitude ; and 
you have it altogether too high ! It ’s not over five degrees, 
at the most, north of the equator. 

Jon. {laughing.) Well, I see you differ somewhat on 
that question. It is a painful necessity,. Mr. Fishback, but 
I believe you will have to put a zero all round, as the value 
of the answer to this question. [ They laugh.~\ Mr. Roberts 
— Can you tell me the geology of Andalusia ? 

Rob. ( hesitating and tumbling his hair.) Upon my 
word, Mr. Gadsby, you see, I don’t like to dispute the 
Mosaic account, and I should, therefore, rather not answer 
that question. 

Funk. Do you mean the drainage of the country ? 

Jon. No, sir, I mean the geology. What is it [ bringing 
down his Jist on the table ], in other words, that crops out. 

Saun. Oh, you mean the crops ! Very little, I under- 
stand, ftut oranges and olives, and I may add, raisins. 

Jon. {laughing.) Grapes, you mean. Mr. Roberts just 
remarked that he didn’t like to dispute the Mosaic account, 
but if the several answers you have given my question, are 
not Mosaic, I’m not Theophilus Gadsby. Mr. Fishback, 
put down three more zeros. And now, Mr. Funk, may 
I ask, what is the entomology,. of Granada? 

Funk. I do not know that I get the exact drift of your 
question. 

Jon. I ask you for the entomology of the old Moorish 
Kingdom of Granada ; the hymenoptera, for example, such 
as ants,’ et cetera. 

Funk. Oh, yes, I see ; but I can’t remember for the life 
of me. They had a great many aunts in those days. 

. Jon. {laughing.) Mr. Roberts, can you tell me of this? 

Rob. No, I’ll be thundered if I can. 


46 THE SPANISH MISSION , OR [Act Y. 

Saun. Would you be kind enough to state the question a 
little more plainly ? 

Jon. What is the fauna of the old Kingdom of 
Granada ? 

Saun. Oh, you mean the fawners about the court, the 
hangers-on, the parasites ? 

Jon. (laughing.) Yes, I mean parasites; they belong 
to the hymenoptera, do they not ? or is it to the aptera ? 

Saun. (seeming satisfied.) A devilish miserable set, Mr. 
Gadsby ; but they couldn’t come their tricks on me. 

Jon. Upon my word, gentlemen, this is truly interesting, 
but not instructive. Mr. Fishback, three more zeros, if you 
please. 

Saun. ( looking astonished.) But did not I answer cor- 
rectly ? What ’s fawners, I should like to know, but para- 
sites ? 

Jon. Allow me to be judge, Mr. Saunders. And now, Mr. 
Funk, I will inquire if you can give me the ethnology of 
the Basque provinces ? 

Funk. If you will please translate that into English, I 
think I can tell you. 

Jon. {laughing.) I mean the science of the race, or the 
races there 

Funk. The races ? Why, everybody knows that races 
are the same all the world over. They are about the same 
as at Saratoga. 

Jon. {laughing.) Good God! Mr. Funk, I perceive 
that you are a man of very liberal education. What do you 
say to this, Mr. Roberts ? 

Rob. I would rather hear what Mr. Saunders has to say. 

Jon. Well, shall we then hear from Mr. Saunders on 
this point ? 

Saun. For my part, I should say you meant human 
races. Now, as regards race, I say now, and I always have 
said, that the Anglo-Saxon race is a little the heaviest race 
yet. 

Jon. (laughing.) Perhaps, if I may venture to suggest, 
you say so because you yourself are of that persuasion ? 
But you, Mr. Roberts, what do you say ? 


Scene I.] 


THE MEMBER FROM NEVADA. 


47 


Rob. I agree with Mr. Saunders. 

Jon. Mr. Fishback, write down these answers, “ Not satis- 
factory.” And now, gentlemen, suppose we add the figures, 
and come at once to the result. Mr. Fishback, please add 
the figures. 

Fish. It is proper to observe at the outset, Mr. Gadsby, 
that the figures to which you refer are all ciphers, except as 
to the first question. Those figures are — for Mr. Roberts 
“ 6,” for Mr. Funk “ 1,” and for Mr. Saunders “ 2.” \_Mr. 

Roberts appears quite happy."] 

Jon. (laughing.) Very well; but according to the estab- 
lished rules of the Civil Service, I can add ten, I believe, to 
either candidate ; and consequently, I need not necessarily 
decide in favor of Mr. Roberts. The rule is very elastic, 
you perceive. [ Importantly ] I will reserve my decision. 

\_Roberts now looks dissatisfied.] 

Funk. Allow me to remark, Mr. Gadsby, that for the 
life of me, I can’t see what these questions have to do with 
capacity for the Spanish Mission. 

Saun. Nor I either ! It is possible that the science of 
navigation might come in, since we should have to go there 
by sea ; but how the deuce the land-sciences come in, I don’t 
comprehend. 

Jon. (laughing.) Is it not obvious that the character of 
the Spanish people is only the grand result of the latitude, 
the geology, the entomology, the ethnology of the country ? 
— and how, unless you have a full understanding of these 
sciences, can you reasonably expect to dine on fair terms 
with the representatives of France, Holland, England, or 
China ? It can’t be done. IIow do you know whether you 
are eating, on any given occasion, prairie-chickens or an- 
chovies ? Clearly, by zoology and ichthyology. How do 
you expect to get along in a country that is mad on a point 
of pedigree, knowing not the least about ethnology ? 

Rob. That ’s so. How do they expect to get along ? 

Jon. It can’t be done. But then, as I said before, under 
the Civil Service, it is entirely indifferent what you know on 
these points, since, according to the rules, I can rule the best 
of you out, don’t jou see ? 


48 THE SPANISH MISSION, OR [Act V . 

Funk. I suppose you also take moral character into 
consideration ? 

Jon. Where there is any, certainly. [ All laughi] 

Rob. Gentlemen, I passed the best examination and I 
propose to treat. Come on then. [Takes his hat and moves 
toward the door ; and Mr. Funk , Mr. Saunders , and Mr. 
Fishback appear anxious to go.~\ 

Jon. {rising.) You must excuse me, gentlemen. I have 
a speech to prepare. Call again at your leisure. Glad to 
see you at any time. [Exeunt all but Jones.~\ 

Jon. That was delicious. I only wish the Commodore 
had been here. [A rap is heard at the door.~\ Come in. 
[ Enter Commodore Copperbottom. ] Why, how are you, 
Commodore ? 

Com. C. Not very well, thank you ; with so much think- 
ing on this Mission business, I find it difficult to sleep. 

Jon. Oh, don’t worry about it ; you will be just as likely 
to get the place, if you sleep from now till December. I 
don’t like to see you so much exercised. It will all turn 
out just the same. How is Madam Pumpington and my 
darling Ophelia ? 

Com. C. Dying to see you. 

Jon. By the way, I have just examined Mr. Funk, Mr. 
Roberts, and Mr. Saunders, according to the rules of the 
Civil Service. They are all men of the most astonishing 
parts, I assure you. It is singular, but this informal and 
entirely unpremeditated examination had the unexpected 
effect of throwing a perfect flood of illumination on several 
subjects, which I had heretofore regarded as exceedingly 
abstruse. 

Com. C. {somewhat dejectedly.) I understand, then, that 
all passed off very finely. 

Jon Commodore, it was truly an intellectual feast, a 
symposium for the gotls, an ovation to Minerva. And 
then, Commodore, all men of such splendid families ! Why, 
Funk’s grandfather used to eat mutton-pies, privately, with 
George III. ; and Roberts, who is a man of truth, declares 
that no less than three male scions of the Robertses, were 
knighted on the field at Hastings ; while I hear it confiden- 


Scene I.] 


THE MEMBER FROM NEVADA. 


49 


tially whispered that Saunders, who was born in England, is 
really a prince in disguise. 

Com. C. ( with great contempt.) Then, all I have to say 

is, and that with the highest respect to you, Mr. Gadsby, 
that if you believe one iota of what Roberts says, you put 
your confidence in the meanest liar that ever walked. And 
as for Funk, he’s an ass! The idea that Funk’s grand- 
father ever ate mutton-pies with George III. ! Why, Mr. 
Gadsby, it is preposterous ! Goose pies, more likely ! And 
then, to believe this miserable Saunders a prince ! Upon 
my honor, he ’s the prince of idiots and asses, and you’ll 
find it out some day. [. Lowering his tone.~\ Of course, I am 
not prejudiced against these men ; I should scorn such an 
imputation ; but I know ’em, Mr. Gadsby. This Funk is 
the crookedest man I ever saw — a regular corkscrew of a 
man ; and this Roberts, he will stand up to your face and 
lie, and lie, and lie as solemnly as any gravestone of the 
last century ; but Saunders, — Pah ! he makes me sick at 
my stomach ! 

Jon. Commodore, you shock me. I wish I could accept 
your statements to the letter, Commodore, I do indeed. But 
if you had heard the examination these men just now 
passed, you would have been most deeply impressed, Com- 
modore ; indeed, I am sure it would have seemed to you 
that the Elizabethan age had really come back again. 

Com. C. To tell the truth, Mr. Gadsby, but for what you 
say, I would have bet five hundred dollars that neither of 
these men could have told you within twenty -five degrees of 
either the latitude or longitude of Madrid, or spelled cor- 
rectly one in ten of the most common English words, or 
knows the difference between an apothegm and a dia- 
phragm. A damned pretty batch to choose a Minister from ! 
No, by thunder ! this man Saunders wouldn’t make a 
respectable scullion. 

Jon. My dear Commodore, I beg you will remember that 
I have not chosen a Minister from this “ batch ” as you call 

it. Are there not plenty of other people in the world ? 
Please remember, Commodore, that in a matter of this 
kind, Theophilus Gadsby is not a man to be moved by mere 


50 


THE SPANISH MISSION , OR 


[Act V. 


considerations of intellectual preeminence. We don’t go 
by that any more. It is now, thank God, a question of 
money alone. We have outgrown that ridiculous age when 
intellect was a test of merit. 

Com. C. ( much relieved.) No, Mr. Gadsby, I should say 
there are not a plenty , capable of this position, but neverthe- 
less, some few. [ A rap on the door is heard.~\ 

Jon. Come in. [ Enter Carolina with evening paper. J The 
“ Evening Star,” Commodore. Have the goodness to run it 
over. My eyes are not very serviceable, just now. 

Com. C. Thank you. \_Looks at the paper. ] What! [Nmc?- 
denly starts up.~\ 

Jon. What ’s the matter, now ? 

Com. C. The Devil ! Hear this ! — “ Among the passen- 
gers on the Arctic , just arrived, is the Hon. Theophilus 
Gadsby, who has returned from St. Petersburg, in which 
place, it is rumored, he has been some weeks engaged in the 
negotiation of certain land-contracts. It has been erro- 
neously supposed that Mr. Gadsby was in Washington.” 

Jon. (annoyed.) What will they have in the papers next, 
I wonder ? 

Com. C. Well, I declare, such blunders are as bad as 
crimes. [ Glances again at the paper. ] I think these news- 
papers, printers, presses and all, were better burned up. 
[Again starts to his feet. ] Great Heavens, — hear this ! 
Another paragraph ! — “It is rumored that there is a per- 
son now stopping somewhere in this city, who calls himself 
the Hon. Theophilus Gadsby, while the real Theophilus 
Gadsby has just arrived in this country by the Arctic. 
This needs explanation.” [ Looks doubtingly at Jones,~\ 

Jon. (annoyed.) Why in the devil’s name don’t they ex- 
plain it then ? 

Com. C. Why don’t you explain it? 

Jon. (rising excitedly.) Commodore, do you take me for 
a liar and a swindler? 

Com. C. O Lord, no, — of course not : but somehow or 
other, I can’t tell how, this has given me a cold sweat. 

Jon. Sweat, then ! Pretty man, you, to stand up for 
your friends ! I must go to New York, instantly, and chas- 


SCKNE I.] 


THE MEMBER FROM NEVADA. 


51 


tise this rascal. Before I go, — in spite of this unexpected 
course on your part, I promise you, on her account, mind 
you [ Takes the Commodore's hand^\ Commodore, I promise 
you, privately, this Mission. But on your part, you must 
promise to defend me here in Washington, while I go on 
there and get satisfaction — Do you swear it? 

Com. C. Certainly ! certainly ! I should indeed be un- 
grateful, not to do this. I will defend you to the death ! 

Jon. On my return, I shall at once claim the hand of 
your lovely niece. 

Com. C. {brightening.) She is yours, Mr. Gadsby, till 
death. 

Jon. {having meantime picked up his hat , cane , etc.) And 
now, Commodore, I’m off. Wait a minute ! Give me fifty 
dollars, Commodore. I haven’t a particle of small change 
about me. 

Com. C. {taking out money and giving it to him.) Take 
that, Mr. Gadsby : there must be twice that sum. [Jones 
takes the money. Loud rapping heard at the door.~\ 

Jon. Now, Commodore, good-by! [Grasps his hand 
warmly. ] I must slip out by the back door, and leave you 
to entertain these people. [Exit.~\ 

Com. C. Come in ! {Enter a wine-merchant and a grocer.) 

W. M. {handing a bill to the Commodore.) Mr. Gadsby, 
I am sorry to trouble you for my bill, just now, but I am 
very short for cash. 

Com. C. Ah ! [fumbling in his pockets ] and I regret to 
say, that I have just handed to a friend, all the money I had 
left ; but your bill shall be paid. 

Gro. Mr. Gadsby, I understand this matter. You don’t 
intend to pay these bills. [Approaches him threateningly . ] 

Com. C. My dear friend, I am afraid you are somewhat 
mistaken in supposing I am Mr. Gadsby ? 

Gro. That ’s just what I am not mistaken about. You 
are not Mr. Gadsby, but you are pretending to be, and 
under that name, you ordered my olives, pickles, and grapes 

by the gross, Mr. , whatever your name is, — and you 

must pay me for them, or I will have the officers in here, 
before you can say Robinson. 


52 


THE SPANISH MISSION, OR 


[Act V 


Com. C. ( helplessly .) Mr. Robinson, I beg your pardon ; 
I never ordered either pickles or grapes or olives from 
you ; and it is ridiculous for you to come here and say so. 
[ Grocer walks about the room , shaking his jists.~\ 

W. M. But you ordered wine from me, you remeVnber ? 
two boxes of Mumm and one of Cliquot. You know 
Ponsardin, don’t you ? 

Com. C. No, Mr. Ponsardin, I am sorry to say, I have 
not your acquaintance. 

. W. M. I did not say my name was Ponsardin ; but you 
know Fishback ? 

Com. C. Yes, I know Fishback. 

W. M. Well, Fishback ordered the wine. 

Com. C. Then, in God’s name, let Fishback pay for it ! 

W. M. I am rather surprised at this course on your part, 
sir ; but I must seek some legal remedy, I suppose. Good- 
evening, sir. \_Exit.~\ 

Com. C. Good-evening. 

Gro. ( approaching .) Do you pretend to say, you never 
ordered pickles from me ? 

Com. C. Never, so help me God ! 

Gro. Nor olives ? 

Com. C. Never. 

Gro. Nor grapes ? 

Com. C. Not if I know it. 

Gro. Well, who did order them, then? 

Com. C. What a ridiculous question ! 

Gro. I mean, sir, were they not ordered in your name, 
sir ? 

Com. C. Well, sir, how should I know, sir? 

Gro. You say you know Fishback ? 

Com. C. Certainly, I know Fishback. 

Gro. And was not Fishback authorized by you to order 
these things ? 

Com. C. Never ! 

Gro. Is not Fishback your secretary ? 

Com. C. No sir. 

Gro. Then Fishback is a cussed liar and a scoundrel, 
for he told me he was, and said you told him to order these 
things. 


Scene I.] 


THE MEMBER FROM NEVADA. 


53 


Com. C. Then I advise you to take out your revenge on 
Fishback. 

Gro. Very well, very well, sir, I will. \_Exit in a great 
rage. More rapping ; and enter a tailor. ] 

Tai. Have I the honor of addressing the friend and 
secretary of Mr. Gadsby ? 

Com. C. I am proud to say, sir, that I am the friend of 
Mr. Gadsby. 

Tai. As Mr. Gadsby is absent, may I be permitted to 
present to you my little bill ? 

Com. C. Certainly. \_Aside. ] By Jove, this begins to 
look rather queer. [ Takes the bill and puts it in his pocket 
without looking at it.] 

Tai. But, sir, I was anxious to get the money on it. 

Com. C. Ah ! 

Tai. Yes sir. 

Com. C. Of course ! 

Tai. {waiting for further remark , which not getting , he 
continues.) Well , sir ? 

Com. C. Very well, I thank you, how do you do ? 

Tai. {angrily.) Confound it, sir, I feel worse. 

Com. C. I am very sorry, sir. Have you seen the doc- 
tor ? 

Tai. Damn the doctor ! 

Com. C. With all my heart ! I am glad you dislike the 
doctors. 

Tai. I didn’t say I disliked the doctors. 

Com. C. Allow me to infer from your positive remark 
respecting damnation, that you are not in love with them, 
at any rate. 

Tai. But when will Mr. Gadsby return ? He can pay 
me, I suppose, if you can’t ? 

Com. C. {taking out the bill.) But what is your bill ? I 
haven ’t the slightest idea [ looking at it]. Oh ! a tailor’s 
bill ! you are Mr. Gadsby’s tailor, then ? 

Tai. Yes, sir. 

Com. C. I assure you, sir, it is a great honor to be Mr. 
Gadsby’s tailor. How do you think you would like to 
make a suit for the Minister to Spain ? 


64 


THE SPANISH MISSION. 


[Act V. 


Tai. Ah ! for Mr. Saunders ? 

Com. C. (in high dudgeon.) Saunders ! no sir ! for Com- 
modore Copperbottom ! 

Tai. For that old ass ! 

Com. C. ( raising his cane and rushing on him.) How 
dare you, sir, speak of him in that manner, you miserable 
ninth of a man ! 

Tai. ( retreating .) I beg your pardon ! It was wholly 
unintentional. I don’t know him ; — never saw him in 
my life ; but that ’s only what I hear everybody say about 
him. 

Com. C. (in high rage.) Out of the room, you infernal 
jackanapes ! Don’t darken this door again ! [. Drives him 

out and returns.] That I should live to encounter such 
disgrace ! [ Enter Fishback.] 

Fish. Ah, Commodore, it ’s all up ! [Sinks in a chair.] 
That man’s name was Jones ! 

Com. C. What man ? that sneak of a tailor ? 

Fish. No ! no ! Great Heaven ! I wish it were ! The 
Congressman ! Gadsby ! Oh, Jones ! Jones ! 

Com. C. ( Sinks in a chair, staring vacantly.) Jones ! 
[ Then , wonder ingly.~\ Jones ! [ Enter Mrs. Scarlett.~\ 

Mrs. S. Ah, me! [/Sm&s in a chair. ] We are undone! 
His name was Jones ! [ Curtain falls.'] 








